Wildcat
by Bronze Cat
Summary: She isn't like the other four and she doesn't understand why she has been brought to this magical land. So, she is going to fight; for her new friends and for her family. If there is one thing this little wildcat knows how to do, it is fight. *Fifth Child* *No pairings, just friendship* REPOST
1. Evacuation

**Repost of an earlier story of mine with some reworking. Hope you all enjoy and leave a review!**

* * *

Saying goodbye was always a challenge for any parent. These women were sending their children away to keep them safe. They had to, to save them from the bombs, and it was among the most difficult thing they had ever done. How could you send your darlings away from you to an unknown place and unknown people? First their husbands and brothers had gone and now their babies. It didn't bear thinking about.

The bustle of the train station was interrupted momentarily as the family of seven poured through the doors; the mother trying to hold onto two of the younger children, a baby balanced on her hip and the other three trailing behind.

"What train is it?" she screeched over the din of her children.

"I imagine it's the one with the kids hanging out of it," one of the girls muttered. She was the one who was being sent away today. A single dirty pillow case trailed on the ground behind her, containing all her worldly possessions.

"Don't you be giving me lip today, missus!" her mother snarled and cuffed her round the ear. To do this, she had to drop the hands of her younger two. They promptly bolted in opposite directions. Swearing like a trooper, she shoved the baby towards her eldest daughter and stormed off after them.

"Such language," one of the WVS ladies helping with the evacuation said. The eldest son dragged on his cigarette then stubbed it out.

"You talking bout me mam?" he demanded, blowing smoke in her face. She coughed and wafted the smoke away.

"Leave it, Jimmy. The posh bint ain't worth it," the eldest girl said, shifting the baby to her other hip. "Let's just make this easier on Nance."

The WVS lady tried her hardest not to turn her nose up and smiled painfully at the four of them.

"Who is being evacuated?" she asked with enforced brightness. The girl with the pillow case glared at her.

"Just me," she said flatly. "The other three are going in two days time. Jimmy and Dot don't get to go."

The eldest grinned and ruffled his sister's hair. "I turn eighteen next month and then I'm off, for King and country!" he said. "And this one's got her job to think about. Makes uniforms for our soldiers! She's a dab hand with a sewing machine," he added, wrapping a skinny arm around his other sister's neck.

"And your name is?" the WVS lady asked the younger girl, desperately wishing for their mother to return.

"Nancy Dempsey," the girl replied. The WVS lady looked her up in the records and carefully filled out the label. She tied it to Nancy's grubby cardigan.

"Now, you must keep this label on at all times," she said brightly. "It has all your information on it. You are a lucky girl; you will be staying in a lovely village deep in the countryside."

Nancy stared at her stonily. Their mother appeared from the crowds dragging her younger two by the hands.

"Oh my word, is she all set to go?" she asked, squinting at the label.

"Yeah," Jimmy replied. "She just has to jump on the train."

The baby began to grizzle on Dot's hip and she jiggled him up and down in an attempt to quiet him. Nancy kissed one of his chubby cheeks but he howled harder. "Bye, our Arthur," she said. "Bye, Dot."

Her older sister gave her a half-hearted hug. "See ya kiddo," she muttered. Jimmy ruffled her hair again.

"Watch yaself, Nance! Remember what I taught ya!" he said. She ignored him and turned to her two younger siblings.

"I don't wanna go with Peggy Sue an' Arthur!" her brother screamed. "I wanna go with Nance!"

"Well, you can't, Georgie. I don't want to go without you either," Nancy said.

"They get to stay together. And that boy looks like he's Dot's age!" her other sister, Peggy Sue, moaned, pointing. Nancy looked across the station at the family. They were richer than Nancy's. They had suitcases and cosy-looking coats instead of pillowcases and thin cardigans. Their mother was hugging each of them and trying to hold back tears. Nancy's mother was sucking on a new cigarette and ineffectually mopping at the dribble from the baby's mouth.

"They're posh knobs," Jimmy muttered, earning himself a smack round the head from their mother too.

"Better get on the train, dear!" the WVS lady said chirpily.

"Bye, sweetheart," her mother said, pecking her on the cheek. "Write to me and tell me all about where you are staying. And don't turn your nose up at any food; I know what you're like but you need to eat proper."

She paused and then gathered her daughter into her arms and hugged her properly. "Keep yourself safe," she said thickly. "I love you."

"Yes, Mam," Nancy said. "Love you too." She hefted her pillow case over one shoulder and pushed her way through to the train. She turned and waved at her family as the whistle blew. The train moved off with a judder and they were lost in amongst the crowd. Nancy turned and looked around her. She was surrounded by kids who were all far wealthier than her. They _all_ had nice coats and actual suitcases like that other family in the station. She kicked her pillowcase miserably and wish she had something a little more substantial. She wished her brothers and sister were coming with her instead of being sent off with their primary school on Saturday.

She heard some giggling and her head whipped round. Two girls were eyeing her up and down.

"Wha'?" she snarled at them. They shrugged and vanished into a compartment.

She'd never been on a train before. 'Cept the Tube but that didn't count. Nah, this was a proper train with compartments and carriages and conductors. She walked along the corridor but all the compartments had children in them already. They looked at her as she paused outside the windows and she quickly moved on. They were all judging her, she knew it.

_Posh knobs,_ she thought venomously. Jimmy had warned her this would happen. He had told her they would look down on her. Besides, what said she wanted to sit with them anyway! She stood by the window and watched the landscape speed past instead. Once they were away from the grey of London she was mesmerised. Everything was so green! It was greener than the local park!

Was this what Ireland was like? Her Pa was from Ireland and he told all of them about the land of his birth with a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. She wished she could see it one day.

The train sped through the countryside and, at each station, kids filed from the carriages. Eventually an empty compartment appeared and she scurried into it, thankful to rest her feet. She studied her label. It had her name, her address, even her school but it didn't say where she was going.

Eventually they reached one station and a voice called, "All remaining evacuees. All remaining evacuees are to leave the train please!"

She was in a group of maybe thirty or so other children. The village was a collection of neat redbrick houses around a green. They were led to the church hall by some new WVS ladies and made to line up in a neat row down the length of the hall. One of the ladies faced them, smiling widely.

"Welcome to Lower Whiteton," she said, "your home during the war. Shortly your new aunties and uncles shall come to claim you so be sure to smarten up and look your best! First impressions are key!"

"Oh no," the boy standing next to Nancy moaned. "This happened to my cousin."

He smoothed his hair down and neatened his tie. Nancy looked around and saw the other children making similar adjustments to their appearances.

"'Ere, what's happening?" she hissed to the boy. His eyebrows raised at her East-End accent.

"It's simply beastly; the ladies and gentlemen will come and pick us out like the side of beef they want from the butcher's counter," he said. His eyes slid over her worn dress and scuffed boots before adding plaintively, "The neat ones always go first."

She looked down at herself then tugged her socks up so they covered her knees. That, together with rolling down her cardigan sleeves, would hide the worse of her scrapes. If only she had a pretty ribbon to tie her hair back with, and for the first time in her life she was thankful that her mother had made her wash her face that morning. She knew she did not look nearly as well-turned out as the others.

The first of the villagers made their way into the hall and surveyed the children with kind smiles. They walked back and forth along the line, whispering to their spouses, until one brave woman stepped forward and took the hand of a little girl with golden hair.

"Good day," she said. "Would you like to stay with myself and my husband?"

"Oh, yes please!" the girl replied, her cornflower blue eyes shining with delight, and let herself be led over to the WVS ladies for the final records. Slowly, more and more children were claimed. Nancy waited patiently but the villagers' eyes passed right over her as if she weren't there. Soon all the girls except herself had gone and the boys were disappearing quickly too.

Eventually a couple walked over to her.

"You poor little thing!" the woman said pitifully. "Look at how little she has with her, John! It's as if her mother rushed her from the house before she could pack her things!"

"Y'wot?" she snarled. Expressions of shock passed over their faces as she spoke back.

"Me mam cried as she sent me away! Don't you dare say a word against my mam!" she shouted.

"That is enough!" one of the WVS ladies clucked, striding over to them. "Miss... Dempsey," she said sternly, peering at Nancy's label, "that is not proper behaviour. Apologise!"

She folded her arms defiantly. The man wrapped a protective arm around his wife's shoulders and turned to the boy next to Nancy.

"Come on, son," he said. "We have room for you."

The boy picked up his suitcase and smiled smugly at Nancy as he walked off behind them. She did not know how but now nobody would look at her. Her heart sunk further as each new family left the church hall. Even the scruffy little boys were taken. They had arrived in the late afternoon but it was now pushing early evening.

Her ears caught stray words as one couple entered. Someone laid their hand on the woman's sleeve and jerked her head in Nancy's rough direction.

"That one is _difficult_."

And right then she knew she had blown it. She was almost in tears by the time she was left alone. As soon as the door closed behind the last family, she ran to the table where the two WVS ladies sat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't send me back to London, please, I'll do anything!" she sobbed.

"Thank you for the apology at last, Nancy, but you are too late. All the villagers have come and gone," one of them said to her.

"Come now, there must be some room for the girl somewhere," the other said. "What about our homes?"

"I can't, Joan!" the first said indignantly. "My nephews arrive tomorrow and I only have room for them."

"And I took those three lads in last week," Joan said. "We can hardly march her around the village knocking on doors until someone takes her in, Miriam. What about Professor Kirke?"

"He has four already! They went straight up there earlier today," Miriam said. "We shouldn't bother him with any more."

"I think they can manage to find space for one more little girl in that big, empty house," Joan said. Miriam pulled a face and edged closer to her. She lowered her voice but Nancy still caught her words.

"Look at her. Little East-End, half-Irish gutter child! She will pocket all of the silver and vandalise that beautiful house!"

Nancy fought the urge to say something about that as well. She weren't a thief! And her Pa was Irish; so what? There were worse things he could be! How dare that lady think that of her and her family!

But she stayed silent. She did not want to lose another potential place to stay.

"I think Jane shall be more than a match for her," Joan replied stiffly. She stood. "I shall see if the vicar will let me use his telephone," she said and walked from the hall. Miriam sniffed and began to finish the records before her.

"Jane Macready is a very good friend of mine, Nancy," she said. "Please be polite to her if she can find you a place to stay."

Nancy fidgeted. She didn't know what to say. Joan returned with a smile on her face.

"Come Nancy! Professor Kirke has agreed to take you in. Gather your things and I shall drive you up there now," she said.

Nancy all but ran for her pillowcase and quickly followed Joan out to the car.

"A train and an automobile all in the same day; my brothers will be so jealous when I write to them!" she said gleefully from the back seat as the car pulled away from the church grounds. Joan could not help but smile when she heard that.

She felt sorry for the little girl. Yes, she was rather thin and forlorn-looking and her mannerisms were going to get her into trouble one day but there was something so charming and endearing about her. This was only further cemented by Nancy's words as the car turned up the manor house's long driveway.

"Cor, it's like bleedin' Buckingham Palace!"

"I don't know what things are like in London but we don't tolerate that sort of language out in the country," Joan reprimanded, firmly but not harshly. She let the girl out of the car and walked her up to the front door. As the doorbell echoed away into the depths of the house, Joan turned to the girl.

"There are four other children staying here. Please remember how lucky you are to be here too," she said.

The door opened to reveal a severe looking woman. "Is this her?" she asked, her steely eyes sweeping over Nancy.

"Yes, this is Nancy," Joan said.

"Mrs Macready, housekeeper," the woman said to her. "Where is your suitcase? Please say that you did not leave it in the church hall."

"This is all I have," Nancy almost whispered.

"Hmm. And I thought the other four came with little," she said. She stood to the side to let Nancy into the house.

"Thank you," Nancy said to Joan. The older women raised her eyebrows; surprised at the sincerity in the girl's voice but pleasantly so.

"Don't thank me; thank Mrs Macready and the Professor," she said. "You and the other children are welcome to join me for afternoon tea on Sunday, if you wish."

Nancy smiled weakly at her and then took a deep breath. She stepped over the threshold and into the house that was to be home during the war.


	2. A Bit Difficult

**Warning here for a little bit of language from Nancy towards the end. Enjoy and please review!**

* * *

"This house is creepy," Lucy said. "I don't know how I am ever going to get to sleep."

Susan reached over and stroked her younger sister's hair. "I'll be here with you," she said comfortingly.

"And Ed and I are right through that door," Peter said. His little sister smiled weakly at him.

"I like this creepy old house," Edmund said helpfully. "I bet there are ghosts in every corner!"

He laughed as Lucy wriggled further down in the bed, her eyes flicking all around the room. Two bedrooms and a small sitting room had been set aside for them in one wing of the house. The rooms all around them were empty and they guessed the Professor's rooms were in some other place. They had not even heard one of the three maids walk by; except for the one who had brought them some supper.

"Come on, Edmund! Go to bed!" Susan said. "We've had a long day and we all need our rest."

He pulled a face but began to walk towards the adjoining door between their rooms, dragging his feet as he went. Someone rapped on the other door; the door that led to the hallway. It swung open to reveal two groundsmen carrying a narrow single bed between them. They nodded to the four children and then carried the bed over to the far side of the room. Mrs Macready followed them in and with her came a rather dejected looking girl about Edmund's age.

She was rather skinny and her dress and cardigan looked like they had been put through a wash one too many times. Her hair was dirty-blonde and part the way between curly and wavy. Most strange of all, she almost seemed to be scared of them. She didn't want to look at them at all.

"Children, this is Nancy," Mrs Macready informed them, laying her hand on the girl's shoulder. "She too has been evacuated and she will be staying with us."

The girl stared at her scuffed boots. Her fingers fiddled with her pillowcase as she peered at each of them nervously from under her eyelashes.

"Please be civil to each other. I have my duties and one of them is not to separate brawling children," Mrs Macready added as the groundsmen left. "And you, my girl, are having a bath before you go to bed tonight," she said, lifting up one of Nancy's curls.

"I don't need no bath! Mam plastered me up before I left home," Nancy said indignantly. Mrs Macready paused as the other children exchanged a look. Edmund chuckled at her accent and received a warning glance from his older brother.

"I don't know what that means but your head is not touching my pillows until you have had a bath," she said firmly and turned on her heel. Nancy looked back at the others. Her green eyes flicked between each of them, her face calculating.

Peter walked over to her and held out a hand. "I'm Peter," he said. "These are my sisters, Susan and Lucy, and my brother Edmund."

"Nice to meet ya," she said, shaking his hand. Her face had relaxed into one of cautious friendliness.

"Accent like that, I'm guessing you are from London too? We're from Finchley," Susan said. She chuckled and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Sorry but you're barely in London there," she giggled. "Me? I'm Hackney, born n' bred."

She walked across to her bed and threw her pillowcase on the covers. Some balled up socks and a couple of dirty shillings bounced across the blanket. She hurriedly picked them up and stuffed them deep into the pillowcase again. She didn't want to unpack her few things while they were all still in the room. It wasn't as if she was embarrassed by the condition of her clothes, Mam and Dot had pooled their clothing rations to get enough cloth to make new clothes for all the younger ones, she was just very conscious of how little she had. In addition to the socks and her underwear, she had two new dresses, a spare cardigan and her good skirt and blouse. And a nightshirt, but that was a cast-off from Dot.

There was also her exercise book and a few scraps of pencil somewhere in there too so she could practice her letters. It was very important that she practiced her letters.

She scrabbled inside the pillowcase for her nightgown and then went in search of her bath, not wanting to spend much longer hovering awkwardly in silence.

Edmund kicked the carpet as the door closed behind her. "Great! We now have to live with an East-End gutter child; this gets better and better," he said bitterly.

"Edmund!" Peter admonished. "We've only just met her; you can't say things like that about her!"

His brother shrugged uncaringly. "I know she's nothing like us," he said.

Susan opened her mouth to retort but, before she could, there was a shriek from somewhere in the house and the sound of boots pounding along the corridor. Nancy came sprinting through the door and threw herself full-length on the floor in between her bed and Lucy and Susan's, where she was hidden from view.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked as she looked down at her. The tousled blonde head shot up.

"That ain't no bath!" she said darkly as another pair of shoes rapped along the corridor towards them. Mrs Macready appeared in the doorway, her face twisting with irritation.

"Nancy?" she said, steel ringing in her voice. "Where are you? I am not playing games with you! Go for your bath."

Nancy sat up and glared over Lucy's blanketed knees at the housekeeper. "That ain't no bath!" she repeated with a hiss. "You could charge two bob a pop and open it as a municipal public baths! I can't swim; I'll drown if you make me go in that!"

"It's only a bath! What do you wash in at home, a bucket?" she replied shortly. When Nancy didn't respond beyond glaring at her further, she sighed. "I suppose I will go and rouse Betty to sit with you then; just in case you slip and drown in that terrible bath tub."

"I'll sit with her if you need, Mrs Macready," Susan interjected. The housekeeper paused then nodded.

"Thank you. Make sure you are thorough with the nit comb," she said before leaving. Susan looked a bit sick but ushered the girl into the bathroom. Nancy glanced at the full bath tub with trepidation but still started to strip down.

"You got some scissors?" she asked as she pulled off her cardigan and bent down to unlace her boots.

"No. Why would I need scissors?" Susan said, her brow furrowing.

"Like I said, Mam plastered me up before I left," Nancy said. "Ain't you never been plastered up?"

She pulled her dress over her head and Susan gasped. Layers and layers of brown paper had been stitched around the girl's chest, forming a crude vest. She ran her fingers over the stitches. They were strong but made with a cheap thread. The paper was too tight and waxy for Susan to rip but the stitches wouldn't take long to unpick. She found some nail scissors in the cupboard over the sink and began to cut through the threads.

Nancy sighed in relief as Susan pulled the last sheet away from her. Susan looked away as she pulled off her vest and pants and climbed in the bath. There was a slosh and a squeal and some water landed near Susan's feet. She looked round to see Nancy sitting in the bath but gripping the sides like the tub was about to be swept away. Slowly she relaxed and let herself sink further into the hot water. Susan ran her fingers over the sheet of paper that still sat on her lap.

"Why do you do it?" she asked as Nancy began to lather her hair with soap.

"Uh, it keeps me warm?" Nancy said as if was the most obvious thing in the world. "Not everyone can afford a nice warm coat like you have. Me older brother and sister got theirs for their sixteenth birthdays; Mam says it's a waste of money for us little 'uns because we'd grow out of them sharpish."

She tipped water over her head and began to wash the soap from her hair.

"So, your family isn't very well off I take it?" Susan asked cautiously . Discussing a family's financial situation was something that was Not Done, according to her mother, but the younger girl shrugged and answered quite happily.

"The downstairs of my house could probably fit into that bedroom we are sharing and the upstairs ain't much bigger. There's been times when we haven't had much food or we've been cold in the winter but there's always them what's worse off than us," she said. "We should be moving to a new flat soon anyway. Me aunt in Shoreditch moved into one last year. Dead posh it was an' all. It even had," and here her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "_a proper indoor bathroom._"

Susan, a girl who lived her entire life with indoor plumbing, nearly laughed in her face. It was so utterly ridiculous to her that someone would be impressed by an indoor bathroom. Everybody on their street had an indoor bathroom; the Wells at No. 18 even had two! This girl may have been from the same city as Susan but she was from a completely different world, a world Susan knew absolutely nothing about. Edmund was right, Nancy was nothing like them.

* * *

_Deer Ma, Jimmy, Dot, Peggy Sue, Georgie and Artha, _Nancy wrote carefully in her book. _I am stayin in a big house in the middel of the country. I rekon this is what Ireland must look like. It is very green. There are lots of rooms in the house. I think I wud get lost pretty quick if I went for a walk. Guess what, they have an indoor toilet and a bath like the bleedin public baths! They are that posh!_

"Come on, Peter, try!" Susan said from the other side of the room. "Gastro vascular!"

She had invited Nancy to join the game she was playing with her brothers, something ghastly involving a big, heavy dictionary, but Nancy had declined in favour of writing this first letter home. Lucy was sitting by the window staring out at the pouring rain. All the children had wanted to get out of the house this morning and explore the gardens and grounds of the house. Nature clearly had a different plan.

"Is it Latin?" Peter said in a very bored voice.

"It ain't English," Nancy muttered under her breath.

_There are four other kids here,_ she continued. _They are from Finchlee and they seem nice enuf. I am sharin a room with the two girls and the boys are next door. _

"Let's play hide and seek!" Lucy suggested. Looks like the dictionary game wasn't as fun as Susan had made it out to be.

"Come on," Lucy pleaded, tugging on her eldest brother's sleeve. He rolled his eyes and looked at her. The look she gave him through her eyelashes could have melted stone.

"One. Two. Three," he began. Lucy's face split into a wide smile even as Edmund and Susan groaned. Ah, the power the youngest child held over the others. The three of them ran from the room as Peter continued counting. Nancy stayed sitting at the table with her book but looked round as he stood up.

He jerked his head towards the door, a small smile on his face. "Go hide, " he said. "Twenty one. Twenty two."

She ran after the other three as fast as she could. Where to go, where to go? She skidded back and forth along corridors and ran up and down sets of stairs. This house had lots of fancy knick-knacks and statues but no places to hide! Eventually, just as she heard Peter shout that he was beginning to seek, she saw an alcove covered by a curtain. She ran for it and yanked it back. The other boy, the sulky one called Edmund, glared at her.

"Go find somewhere else! This is my hiding place!" he snapped, yanking it back. She bit back one of the more colourful retorts she had learned from Jimmy (who in turn had no doubt overheard it from their Pa) and ran for the small staircase at the far end of the room. She was nearly knocked flying as Lucy came streaking down the narrow steps.

"I'm back! I'm back!" she shouted as Nancy flailed wildly to prevent falling over.

"Shut up! He's coming this way!" Edmund moaned, poking his head out from behind the curtain. Lucy looked between him and Nancy with confusion as Peter joined them.

"Do you three know how to play this game?" he asked jovially. Lucy was now very confused.

"Weren't you worried about where I was? Weren't you searching for me?" she asked. Edmund rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that's the point of the game!" he snapped.

"Have I won?" Susan asked hopefully as she appeared behind Peter.

"I don't think Lucy wanted to play after all," Peter said to her. "Really, Lu, if you didn't want to play the dictionary game then you should have just said instead of dragging us all about the house-"

"But I've been gone for hours!" Lucy exclaimed. "Haven't I?"

"We've only been playing for a few minutes," Nancy told her. Lucy grabbed Peter's hand and tugged.

"Come see!"

She pulled him up the stairs she had run down, the others following behind, and jabbered at top-speed about a wood she had found. It was trapped in winter and there were fauns and satyrs and centaurs and other creatures that Nancy had never heard of before. All this was supposedly hidden in a great wardrobe, the only thing occupying the room which they were dragged to. Lucy threw open the door with a defiant, "Take a look for yourselves!" and Susan and Peter willingly stepped inside. As Edmund vanished around the back, Nancy peered into the darkness inside. She watched Susan tap on the back. There was an answering knock from Edmund.

"There isn't anything in here," Peter said as he stepped out again. Lucy's face dropped slightly and she shoved her way between her elder brother and sister. Her shoulders sagged as she saw the rows of coats and boots.

"It was there," she said in a small voice. "It was so real. I felt the cold and the snow."

"That's enough now, Lucy," Susan said sternly.

"I'm not lying!" she cried, whirling around to face them. She looked really hurt.

"I believe you," Edmund said as he appeared from behind the wardrobe. His face was so innocent and trustworthy that for a moment Nancy was taken in. His brother and sisters appeared to know better though; they were looking at each other in surprise.

"You do?" Lucy asked. Edmund's face twisted into a cruel smile.

"Sure! Didn't I tell you about the football pitch in the bathroom cupboard?" he said. Lucy's face crumpled.

"Oh, stop it. Why must you make everything worse?" Peter said to Edmund. It was almost like a switch had been flipped; Edmund tensed and stormed up to his older brother.

"You aren't Dad, you will never be Dad so stop acting like him!" he shouted in his face and ran from the room.

"Well done!" Susan said drily and hurried after their vanishing brother.

Nancy knew that she had just intruded upon something private and long-standing. This small exchange was only part of a much grander tale. Not wanting to involve herself, she slipped from the room. As she made her way downstairs, she heard Lucy once again protesting the existence of the world in the wardrobe.

She felt a bit sorry for Lucy. She was surprised that the others had made no attempt at all to allow her her fantasy. Had her younger sister or brother come out with such a tale, she thought she would let them indulge in the fantasy for a while. She didn't understand why Peter and Susan had cut Lucy off so harshly.

With a sigh, she went back to the small sitting room they shared. Edmund was there, lying on a sofa and reading something. He still looked grumpy and miserable so she ignored him and walked back to the table. Her exercise book was gone.

"Your spelling is appalling," Edmund said, turning a page of the thing he was reading. She spun around. Yes, he was reading her book. Her precious exercise book.

"That's mine," she said, holding out her hand.

"I mean, our six year old neighbour can spell better than this," he added, turning another page.

She folded her arms. "Actually, my teacher says I got potential," she snapped. "She says if I work hard I could go to secretarial college."

"Really?" he said, meeting her eyes and widening his own slightly. Once again she fell for it; she thought he was being sincere. Her chest puffed slightly with pride but deflated just as quickly when he mockingly added, "Good for you. It is so lovely when somebody knows their limits."

Something snapped inside of her and she leapt over the back of the sofa; landing heavily on him and hitting him in an attempt to grab the book back. He had never been attacked by a girl like this and he momentarily forgot that she _was _a girl. He braced his knees against her stomach and heaved her off him.

"Give me my book!" she screamed at him as he scrambled over the back of the sofa. She lunged for him again but he skipped away, making her tumble head over heels and land with a thump on the floor.

Peter and Susan burst through the door.

"What is going on down here? You two are causing an absolute racket!" Peter yelled at the pair of them. Nancy pointed an incriminating finger at Edmund.

"He took my book! That's mine; it's mine for practicing my letters! No-one is allowed to read my book except me and my teacher!" she shouted.

"Who is Jimmy? Is he your fellow because you have written a tremendous amount about him," Edmund said, flicking through the pages. Nancy inhaled sharply.

"No, he's my brother!" she screeched. "An' when I write to him and tell him about you, he's gonna come down 'ere and knock your fuckin' block off!"

Whoops.

All three of them were now staring at her with open mouths. She tried to maintain her withering glare but all she wanted was for the floor to swallow her up.

"What does that word mean?" another small voice said from the doorway. All four turned to see Lucy standing there with an expression of complete innocence. She looked at them expectantly.

Peter grabbed Nancy and hauled her to her feet.

"Out," he said grimly.

"But what does that word mean?" they heard Lucy ask again as Peter steered Nancy from the room.

"Drop it, Lucy," Susan said as the door shut behind them. Peter faced her with folded arms. He raised his eyebrows at her. She shuffled her feet and looked down.

"Look, Edmund is being a little beast at the moment but there is no need to use that kind of language," he said. "I will not tolerate you using it around him and definitely not around my sisters. I'm giving you a fair warning; we don't know how long we will have to stay here and I think we should all try to get along."

"He stole my book!" she said sulkily. He sighed.

"Ignore him. I'll get it back for you and if it means so much to you then hide it where he can't get it," he said. She looked away, still sulking.

He walked back into the sitting room leaving her by herself. She sank down to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. A low murmur of voices escaped under the door. They were talking about her, she knew it.

Why had she let it slip out? She should have known they wouldn't be used to things like that. The villagers had been right; she was a bit difficult. This was going to be a very long time away from her family and her home.


	3. Condensed Milk

Lucy sighed and tried to get comfy. These sheets were still scratchy, no matter how she lay on them. They itched her legs in a most uncomfortable manner and the blanket laid over the top was made of a coarse wool that would itch even worse if laid against her skin. Plus, there was the rasping coming from Susan. She was surprised that Peter hadn't stumbled groggily through to their bedroom to complain.

She elbowed her sister firmly in the ribs. Susan gave an especially loud snort and rolled over onto her side. The wheezy snores continued but at least they were slightly diminished.

Lucy sighed again and rolled in the opposite direction. To her surprise, she met Nancy's wide awake gaze.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Nah. It's far too... quiet here," Nancy said. As if on cue, Susan gave another of her loud snorts and Lucy raised her eyebrows. A small giggle escaped Nancy.

"I meant," she said, "it's so quiet outside. There's so much noise at night where I live. And your sister's got nothing on my Pa. He can shake the entire top floor of the house when he gets going. Plus I share a bed with me younger sister so it's a bit odd being by myself."

Lucy digested this. "You could join us, if you want," she offered. "I don't mind and I'm sure Susan wouldn't."

Nancy shook her head. "Thanks but you're OK. And I don't know if your brothers would approved, 'specially with what I said to Edmund earlier."

"What does that word mean? Peter and Susan refuse to tell me," Lucy asked, propping herself up on her elbow. Nancy's face darkened.

"Don't repeat it to no-one. Good little girls like you shouldn't use filthy language like that; leave it to the likes o' me."

"Fine," Lucy huffed. They were quiet for a while, the only noise in the room being Susan's snores. "What's your family like?" the younger girl asked, elbowing Susan again.

"Me Mam's called Rita and my Pa's George. I've got an older brother, Jimmy, and he's turning eighteen next month and an older sister called Dot who's sixteen. Then it's me, then my little sister Peggy Sue. She's eight. And then I've got two younger brothers. Georgie is five and our Arthur is eighteenth months. I'm the piggy in the middle," she grinned.

"Huh. I thought six was a big family; you have eight in yours," Lucy said.

"Yeah. It can be pretty crowded at times but we know we've got each other," she said with a small smile. "I'd do anything for them."

They were quiet again for a long time. Nancy sighed and once again tried to get comfy. Failing miserably, she threw the sheets off her legs. She'd had enough, she wasn't going to get to sleep any time soon.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked as she crossed the room.

"Just for a walk," she said. She left Susan still snoring and Lucy staring at their lit candle on the bedside table and stepped out into the cool of the house.

In the daytime, the house felt too big. The corridors stretched away and twisted and turned up and down staircases. It felt like a maze and she didn't like the heavy furnishings. She didn't care if this was a highly important historical house that attracted hundreds of visitors, if Mrs Macready was to be believed. It felt stifling.

She liked it more at night. The dark enveloped her and shrouded everything in a layer of shadow. Even the pools of moonlight between the heavy curtains added to the atmosphere. It felt so much more peaceful and welcoming at night. It was curious that she preferred slipping through the shadows like a little ghost in her nightgown instead of exploring each room in daylight.

Her feet padded softly down the stairs with her mind not really knowing where she was going. Eventually though, she arrived in the kitchen.

Blimey, it was big. There were counters and around each wall, a great black range that churned out heat even now in the middle of the night, a sideboard filled with crockery of varying degrees of fanciness and a large well-scrubbed table. She padded across the cool flagstones and pulled on the latch of a door in the far wall. The door creaked open and the moonlight streaming from the high windows caught against countless tins and bottles. This pantry was amazing. Nancy had never seen this much food before outside of a shop.

Her stomach gurgled and she bit her lip. How easy it would be to steal a biscuit or three. But somehow, she knew Mrs Macready would know. The housekeeper glided around the house almost silently on occasions and Nancy was certain she was omnipresent. The smallest disturbance would cause her to gravitate towards it with an accusing eye already in place. She would notice a few biscuits vanishing in the night.

Plus Nancy's Mam would be so disappointed if she got news that Nancy was stealing. There was a war on and it wasn't helpful to the war effort to only think of yourself.

The light flicked on and she jumped with a scream.

"Sorry! What on earth were you doing hiding in the dark?" a friendly voice said.

"Nothing," she said quickly and slammed the door. "I didn't know where the light switch was."

He was fairly old, with kind eyes and neat grey hair; a beautiful dressing gown wrapped firmly around his body. "Which one are you then?" he asked. "Since I presume you are one of the evacuees; it is not often I find a child in their night-clothes lurking in the kitchen."

"I'm Nancy," she said.

"Ah, the little girl who came afterwards in the evening," he said, nodding his head. He smiled at her again and crossed to one of the high cupboards against a wall. From some shelf inside he pulled out a tin and then fished in a drawer for a spoon.

"Condensed milk," he said, somewhat sheepishly, as he gestured towards her with the tin. "Mrs Macready thinks it is too sweet for me but I must confess to a liking for it. I sneak down here in the evenings to indulge myself when my mind wanders from my work. Care to join me?"

She nodded and climbed onto one of the low benches against the table. He fetched another spoon and then sat opposite her. The tin was opened to reveal the sweet milky substance inside and she eagerly dipped her spoon inside.

"Are you Mr Macready?" she asked, licking the spoon. He chuckled.

"Oh, no, no, no. My name is Digory. Mr Macready is off in France with your father and Mr Pevensie," he said.

She hesitated.

"I didn't know the others' dad was in the army too," she said. They didn't seem like children of soldiers. Nearly everyone round Nancy had signed up for the regular pay and leave, plus a handy pension for widows. Just in case. Mr Pevensie must have had some other reasons for wanting to fight the Nazis.

Digory blinked at her in surprise. "Don't you speak with them?" he asked, taking a spoonful of his own.

"We don't exactly get on," she said. "I said somethin' a bit rude and they didn't take it too well."

"What on earth did you say?"

She turned slightly red and mumbled the disastrous phrase that had pushed her away from them. Digory roared with laughter which only made her turn a deeper shade of red.

"My goodness! Where on earth did you learn something like that?" he asked, wiping away tears of laughter.

"Me brother and his mates," she said sheepishly. "And Pa can get goin' when he thinks we're all in bed too. Mam would have knocked me into next week if she ever heard me speak like that. She says it's bad enough that I've got me Pa's Irish temper without givin' in to it. _Just cos you've Irish blood doesn't mean you have to scream and shout like a middle-aged washerwoman,_ she says."

"Sounds like you do have some manners in there somewhere," he noted. "And it sounds like your mother is a wise woman. She has given you a good start in life; or, at least, the best she can."

There was something in his eyes. He looked so open and friendly, she knew she had to be honest with him. It would be unfair if she tried to be anything else.

"Not really. I feel like I'm trapped," she said, looking down at the table.

"Trapped?" Digory said. "What a curious thing to say. Why do you feel trapped?"

"I feel like there is a future already waitin' for me," she said. "And I can see it happening to me older sister; we're just going to end up like Mam. Everyone says how Dot looks like Mam when she was Dot's age and how I look like them when they were my age. That means I'm probably going to end up real pretty like them. But, I don't wanna be real pretty. There's this constant stream of boys comin' to our door to take Dot down the pictures and in the mean time she's got her job. Is that what's going to happen to me? Am I going to get some rubbish job then marry some guy and have a load of kids that I'm going to struggle to feed? That may sound disrespectful to my Mam but it's the truth; if I had a penny for the amount of times she's sat up crying cos she's feeling so wretched then we'd never be hungry again."

"That is a very profound thought for a girl your age," he noted. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't wanna go to secretarial college, no matter what my teacher says," she said firmly. "I- I want to see more of the world. This is the first time I've left London and... it's nice. It's nice to be away from all the grey."

"Do you know where you would like to go? My father grew up in India; it is a splendid country."

She paused and thought. A small smile spread across her face and she lifted her eyes to his face.

"There's this statue, I don't know where it is, but I'd like to see it. I remember seeing it in a news reel at the pictures."

"What did it look like?" he asked. "Maybe I know where it is."

She climbed on the bench and stood to her full height. Raising her spoon in the air with her right hand, she pulled a serious face. "Like this," she said. "An' with a big, flowy dress and a pointy crown and a book-thing in her other hand."

"Lady Liberty!" he told her. "She stands in the harbour of a city called New York in the USA."

"America? That's a long way away," she said, lowering her spoon and sitting down.

"If you stay as confident and as focused as you currently are, I don't see why you won't see her one day," he replied smiling at her. She smiled back at him shyly.

He was nice. He didn't react to everything she said with raised eyebrows and cynicism, like she felt she received from the Pevensies. He actually seemed interested to hear what she had to say. She would never have admitted her fears about her future to everyone at home. She would have been told to not be so silly and get her heads out of the clouds. Real life in her street was tough. A honeymoon to Brighton was considered exotic; anyone swearing they'd make it to America was considered to be completely loopy.

They finished the condensed milk while chatting amicably and quickly disposed of the evidence of the midnight snack.

She followed Digory back up the stairs into the house, still chatting away.

They paused as they heard a scuffling. Lucy appeared, once again at a run, and this time ploughed straight into Digory. She rebounded and glanced between them with tear-filled eyes before wrapping her arms around Digory's waist with fresh sobs. Susan and Peter appeared too and stared in horror at their younger sister.

"If you children cause one more disturbance then you can find a bed in the stable!" Mrs Macready's shrill voice called. Further proof of her omnipresence, Nancy could not help but think. She rounded another corner, still wrapping herself in a ridiculous pink quilted dressing gown, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Digory.

"Professor!" she spluttered. "I told them not to disturb you!"

"It's quite alright, Mrs Macready," Digory replied smoothly. Nancy's head spun round to stare him. He was the Professor?! He were the one who owned this big house and all them fancy statues?! Him who had sat and shared a tin of condensed milk with her and nattered away for easily half an hour or more?!

The sly old dog!

"I think this one could use some hot cocoa," he was saying. He eased Lucy away and Mrs Macready took her away with a completely uncharacteristic and almost motherly, "There, there, come along."

"Off you go to bed, Nancy," he said, patting her on the shoulder. He turned a rather steely eye upon Susan and Peter. "You two, a word."

Nancy walked past them with a small spring in her step and made her way back to their rooms. As she reached the door to her and the girls' room, the boys' door opened and Edmund stuck a tousled head around it.

"Is Lucy still crying about that magical land?" he asked.

"Oh, is that what it was about?" she said lightly. His eyes narrowed.

"Why are you so happy?"

"I made a friend. The Professor, you know, the geezer who owns this place? Turns out me brother might not need to come knock your block off if you annoy me again!" she grinned and slipped through the door.

* * *

Meanwhile, Peter and Susan stood before the Professor's desk in his study. As they watched him fill his pipe, Peter could not help but feel like he had been summoned to the Headmaster's office at school.

"War is once again spreading across Europe but I never thought it would come to my own house," the Professor noted, leaning back in his chair. He regarded them coolly.

"Nancy confessed that you haven't been getting on very well," he said. "Tell me, has she told you how she came to be here?"

"She was evacuated like us?" Susan said slowly, exchanging a confused look with her brother.

"No, I mean how she came to be here in this specific house," he said. When they didn't answer, he sighed and lit his pipe.

"You are part of a very lucky group of children who were evacuated with homes already decided. Nancy is part of the ones who were evacuated with a destination only. Upon arrival, she was taken with the other evacuees to the local village. There was a bit of an incident, or so I'm told, and my neighbours refused to take her which ultimately resulted in her coming here. She has never left London before; and possibly never even spent a night away from her family. Three of you attend boarding school and the youngest may be away from home but she is with people she loves and trusts. Nancy has no-one and her first impression was that nobody wanted her. Then she came here and you did not exactly make her feel welcome."

Peter nearly laughed out loud at that. "With all respect, sir, we've tried our hardest to include her," he protested. "Even with her scraps with Edmund and her language, I've still tried to be civil to her; Susan too."

"Maybe you should try to see things from her perspective," the Professor suggested. "She strikes me as the type who, once you have fought the battle to earn her trust, will defend and fight for you with every breath in her body. Now, let us talk about your younger sister."


	4. Fur Coats

Nancy dozed in a pool of golden light. Her nightly wanderings were beginning to catch up with her now and she kept falling asleep during the day. This morning, after their daily dose of oatmeal under the beady eye of the senior maid Betty, she had sat on the sofa and keeled over almost straight away.

She slept at ridiculously funny angles anyway but this time was especially spectacular. Her head was hanging off the seat of the sofa while one leg was hooked over the back. Her arms were bent close to her sides and twitched slightly as she dreamed. The equilibrium was perfect as it was; if she shifted only slightly she would either slide off the sofa completely or wake up with the most horrible aches in her muscles. Right now she was at peace.

A crash tore through her sleep and she jerked awake. Unfortunately, her odd positioning meant that that tiny jerk was enough to make her slide headfirst off the sofa.

She groaned and staggered upright, rubbing her head and pouting as her bump throbbed. The crash had come from one of the rooms further down the hall. It was a room they had explored but not spent a lot of time in; just a small drawing room with some couches and artefacts .

As she entered through one door, the Pevensies scurried in through another. All five stared in dismay at the suit of armour in pieces on the floor before lifting their eyes to the window. The cricket ball, for the ball was lying in amongst the mess, had sailed straight through the stained glass inlay. It was one of the worst places in the window to shatter.

"Well done, Ed!" Peter snapped, glaring at his younger brother. Edmund assumed his favourite expression of outrage with a hint of hurt.

"You bowled it!" he snapped in reply.

"What on earth are you children up to?" the voice of Mrs Macready called through the open door behind Nancy. The woman was truly omnipresent! She sounded like she was at the other end of the house!

"The Macready!" Susan cried.

"She's coming this way!" Lucy added as the sharp rap of the housekeeper's shoes began to move in their direction.

"You four run, I'll take the flack for this one," Nancy offered quickly.

Peter hesitated for a moment but shook his head.

"You're in enough trouble already," he said firmly and grabbed both her hand and Lucy's. "Come on, sharp's the word!"

He hurried the pair of them out; Edmund and Susan following closely behind. The five of them sprinted through the halls of the house but, no matter where they went, no matter what door they opened or staircase they leapt up or down, Mrs Macready always seemed to be there ahead of them. With nowhere else to go, they ran for the attics.

Into the wardrobe room they went. Edmund ran straight for the wardrobe and threw its door open.

"Come on!" he said, indicating the darkness and fur coats inside. Just as they opened their mouths to protest, the tip-tap of the shoes echoed again behind them and that was enough to propel them all forwards and into the darkness.

Pressed against the soft fur of the coats, Nancy finally dropped Peter's hand and took a few deep breaths. She was still a bit disorientated and groggy from her nap and the bump to her head. She was almost certain that her mind was playing tricks on her. Either there was a draught or the air in this wardrobe was unusually cold and damp. Just as her eyes adjusted to the dark, Peter - who had been crouching with his eye against the crack of the open door - straightened up.

"Get back," he hissed and shoved them all back. Pandemonium erupted in the tiny, confined space. Nancy tripped over Lucy's leg and fell into Edmund heavily. He in turn shoved her away into Susan who fell against Peter and all three of them tumbled into a pile of snow.

Wait, snow inside a wardrobe?

Nancy scrambled off Peter and Susan's knees and crawled forward. A winter wonderland opened before her. The snow was so clean and pure; nothing like the grey sludge that occasionally littered the streets of her area. She scooped some up in her hands. It was cold, freezing even, but perfectly soft and powdery. It slipped through her fingers and left a thin dusting on each one.

"Impossible," she heard Susan breathe behind her and she looked up. Her breath left her. The snow dusting her fingers was indeed beautiful but it did not compare to the snow on the trees stretching above her. Every branch was coated and the branches twisted this way and that and on and on. She could see no end; they were in an actual forest!

They were in Lucy's forest.

The little girl walked past them with a coy, "Don't worry, I'm sure it is just your imagination."

"I don't suppose a fellow's apology will quite cut it?" Peter asked her hopefully. She tipped her head to one side and smiled at him.

"No," she said and Peter's shoulders sagged slightly. Suddenly her hand whipped around and hurled a snowball straight towards him.

"But that might!" she crowed and dived for another snow drift. Her older brother and sister scrambled for ammunition of their own and so did Nancy. The four children romped in the snow, flinging it at each other and shrieking as the snowballs smacked into them and wormed their way down their collars.

"Ow!" another voice moaned. The merriment ceased as Edmund pouted and rubbed his arm where a stray snowball had hit him. The tensioninstantly rocketed as Peter glared at his younger brother.

"You liar," he spat. "Apologise to Lucy!"

"It's quite alright, Peter," Lucy said lightly. "Some little children do not know when to stop playing games."

She smiled sweetly as her brother rolled his eyes.

"So, you've been here the most, Lu. What do you suggest we do?" Peter asked. Lucy's face lit up in an expression of pure delight.

"I want you all to meet Mr Tumnus!" she said happily.

"Then off to Mr Tumnus' we shall go!" Peter replied with a smile.

"But we can't go hiking in the snow!" Susan exclaimed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Her eyes slid over Nancy who's clothes were still covered in snow. The younger girl was starting to shiver in the cold and her clothes would do nothing to protect her.

Peter emerged from behind them, his arms laden with fur coats.

"I'm sure the Professor won't mind if we take these," he said, handing one to Lucy. "After all, it isn't as if we are taking them out the wardrobe," he added pointedly. Susan snatched the offered coat, her mouth thin.

Nancy glared suspiciously at the one he tried to hand her. "I can't wear that!" she said. "That's a posh knob's coat."

"Freeze then," he replied mildly and she grabbed it off him. It was brown and smelled of mothballs but at least it was better than the black and silver monstrosity Edmund was forced into. As they set off, tramping through the snow after Lucy, Nancy shot him a side-long glance. He looked so utterly ridiculous in the over-sized coat that she nearly laughed out loud.

Twenty minutes into the trek and her spirits were definitely lower. Her boots seemed to have a thousand and one holes in them and her socks had quickly become sodden. This coat was too heavy and she tripped over the hem again and again as they stumbled along.

Peter slipped on a snow drift as they made their way down a hill, causing giggles from his sisters as he slid down on his rump. Nancy was about to chuckle too when she tripped over the hem of her coat and rolled down after him with a shriek. Still giggling, Susan helped her up and tried to brush the worst of the snow off her.

"What do you think of the coat?" she asked.

"They're over-rated," Nancy snarled, heaving it back onto her shoulders. "I'm too hot an' it's too heavy an' it stinks."

Susan laughed again and the pair hurried after the other three. Lucy was in the middle of reeling off all the lovely things Mr Tumnus was going to provide for them upon their arrival. Her little voice faltered as they rounded the final corner and their eyes fell upon a once cheery little door in the hillside which was now broken and hanging from its hinges. Before they could stop her, she had bolted for the door.

Beyond the door was a mess. It had once been a handsome and comfortable house but now it was dark and unwelcoming. Nancy picked her way through the detritus to the back of the house. There had once been bookshelves here but something had torn them down. There were deep gouges in the wood where claws had been dragged through it. Her fingers ran over the jagged wounds. The pages of the books that had once sat on the shelves were scattered across the floor. It made her sad. She could not read that well but she was saddened greatly to see so many beautiful books wrecked. She picked up the cover of one. _Is Man a Myth? _was emblazoned on the red leather.

The others had been reading a notice they had found pinned to the wall.

"Perhaps we should go to the police?" Peter asked.

"These are the police!" Susan exclaimed, rapping the sheet of parchment. Nancy turned to look at Peter with a confused look on her face.

"I thought this Tumnus was your friend," she said slowly. "Why would you want to go to the cops?"

"To get help," Peter replied. She scoffed.

"The cops don't help no-one. Protect your own and sort out your own messes, that's what I was brought up knowing. We go to the police and you'll never see Tumnus again."

Jimmy had been in trouble with the police a few years back. It was none of their business, it was something to be dealt with by Pa and the other guys and not the flaming coppers, but they'd stuck their big noses in and now Jimmy had a criminal record. He weren't no criminal. He was her older brother.

"Look, this bickering isn't going to help him!" Lucy said, tugging at Peter's sleeve. "We have to find a way that means we _can _help him!"

"I don't know, Lu," her older brother said slowly. "He was arrested just for being with a human..."

"I'm the human!" Lucy almost wailed, now practically hanging off Peter's arms in earnest.

Peter still looked unconvinced but he nodded. "Fine. We'll see if there is anything we can do."

"Why?" Edmund asked from where he was skulking in a corner. "He's a criminal."

Nancy rounded on him. "Whether he's criminal or no, he's still hum- he's still a person," she said. "He deserves to be treated fairly. We have to help him. Ain't you never heard of _innocent until proven guilty_?"

"Thick as thieves," Edmund muttered under his breath, meeting her stony gaze.

_"Psst._"

The noise was alien in the stillness of Tumnus' house and all five of them turned to stare out the window and door. A second of the noises sent them hurrying from the house. Nobody was outside.

A crack echoed from the undergrowth. Susan and Lucy edged closer to their older brother; Edmund and Nancy hanging back slightly. Nancy shifted her weight slightly into a better fighting stance and shook the sleeves of her coat away from her fists. She'd been in some scraps before and Jimmy had taught her some things. No evil creature was going to hurt them while she was there.

The slightly portly beaver scampered from the undergrowth and sat up on its haunches. Its head cocked to one side as it observed them.

They sighed with relief. Peter exchanged a look with Susan and then edged towards it with an outstretched hand. He clicked his tongue and closed the final few feet between him and the animal.

The beaver eyed him warily and then straightened up. "I ain't gonna smell it, if that's what you want!" he snapped in an accent that could have stepped straight out of Nancy's end of town. Relief swept over her in an instant.

Now, here was a geezer they could trust!

"Oh, sorry," Peter said stiffly and stepped back. The beaver shook his head and slid his eyes over the other four.

"Lucy Pevensie? I'm a friend of Mr Tumnus," he said. "I have here a token for you to prove my honesty."

From somewhere he produced a rumpled scrap of white and held it out. Lucy stepped towards him, her eyes unnaturally large in her little pale face, and took the piece of material.

"My handkerchief," she said in a small voice.

"He managed to get it to me before they came for him," he said darkly. He stopped suddenly and looked over his shoulder at the trees stretching overhead. "But, such discussions are best left for safer quarters," he added. "Come along."

Lucy, Peter and Nancy made to follow him as he disappeared into the undergrowth but Susan and Edmund stopped them.

"We can't just go after him! We know nothing about him!" Edmund pointed out.

"He says he knows the faun," Peter replied mildly.

"He's a beaver! He shouldn't _say _anything!" Susan retorted.

"Well, I'm going to follow him," Nancy muttered and tramped off in the direction the beaver had vanished him.

"Why?" Edmund demanded. She turned round; her face thoughtful. She bit her lip and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear before pointing after the beaver.

"I've been away from London for three days now and 'e's the first person I've met who makes any sense," she shrugged.

* * *

**Reviews please? :)**


	5. Dreams of Mysticism and Gobbledegook

Nancy happily tramped through the snow alongside Lucy and Mr Beaver. Her accent was slowly getting thicker and thicker as she chatted with him and the three following had no idea what she and the beaver were talking about and how Lucy was managing to follow the conversation.

"'Ere, you sure you're ain't from Narnia? You sound like you're from my neck of the woods," Mr Beaver said to Nancy.

"Maybe places in different worlds end up speakin' the same," she suggested. "If you came to Hackney then you wouldn't sound outta place at all!"

"Hacked... knee?" he said slowly. "You name your societies after chopped body parts?"

Lucy giggled as Nancy frowned. Before she could correct him, they crested a small hill and looked down upon a dam. It was a cheery little place. White smoke was curling up from a chimney and all the little details like the woodpile by the door made it all the more charming and welcoming.

"Blimey, looks like the missus has the kettle on! Who's all for a Rosy Lee?" Mr Beaver said happily, rubbing his paws together.

"Me; I'm gaspin' for a decent cuppa!" Nancy replied. With a chuckle, the beaver set off down the hill.

"I'm home, m'dear!" he called as they neared the little house. There was a scuffling from inside the house and an irate voice called out.

"Mr Beaver? About time! If I find you've been out with Badger again then I'll have both your pelts!"

Another beaver emerged from the house with squared shoulders. When she saw Mr Beaver with the five children, she stopped dead in her tracks and pressed her paws to her mouth. Her eyes shone with delight.

"Oh, welcome, welcome!" she gabbled. "Oh, I never thought I would live to see this day! Come in, come in, out of this frightful cold!"

They all piled in to the warm little house and arranged themselves around the table. All of them except for Edmund, who chose to be dreadfully rude to their hosts in Nancy's opinion and not join them. Instead he sat on a small flight of stairs by the door and glared at each of them in turn.

A steaming mug of tea was delivered to each of them along with something Mrs Beaver classed as fish 'n' chips. It was nothing like the slightly suspicious-looking lump of batter with a sliver of fish somewhere inside and the soggy, insipid chips Nancy bought in the greasy chippie around the corner from her house. The fish was crispy and well-seasoned; the chips golden. The whole thing was one of the most delicious things she had ever eaten and the Pevensies seemed to be enjoying it too. For a long time, the only sound in the house was the clink of cutlery against plates.

She couldn't remember when she last felt so warm and full. She sat back in her chair and blearily tried to listen to the conversation that had started up around the table. The Beavers and the Pevensies were talking about something, something about the Witch who ruled Narnia and someone called Aslan, but she was so tired that she could barely keep focused. Her head began to nod and before long she was fast asleep. She didn't notice the others tear after the absent Edmund; she didn't even stir as the door banged shut behind them.

Mrs Beaver watched her while she slept. Sighing, she threw Nancy's coat over her sleeping form and busied herself clearing the table of dirty dishes.

* * *

Nancy woke up. Slightly disoriented, she sat up and looked around. Where was she? Not in the Beavers' house that much was sure. She thought it could possibly the forest they had walked through but she wasn't certain.

For one thing, this forest was in summer.

She picked herself off the blanket of moss she was lying on and set off down a path. There wasn't really anywhere else to go; the trees were pressing in so thick about her. She picked her way through the tree roots as they weaved back and forth across her path. It wasn't hard-going and it really was quite pleasant. Golden sunlight pooled on the path and when she looked up she could see a clear blue sky through the canopy of leaves. It was nice.

The path weaved through the trees and suddenly emerged into a small meadow of flowers. So many bright and colourful faces peered up at her. She knelt down and ran her hands through them. Her fingers closed around one and she lifted it up. Mmm, such a sweet fragrance.

Her ears picked up a soft, growly noise a bit like a cat purring. She looked up and froze.

The biggest lion she had ever seen was lying amongst the flowers on the other side of the clearing. Its amber eyes were fixed on her. The great tail swished out to one side and its ears swivelled as their eyes stayed locked on each other.

"Good day," the lion said to her.

She leapt backwards in fright and bottom-shuffled away rapidly until her back collided with a tree.

"Uh, hi," she replied. No, it wasn't a reply. Lions didn't talk!

The tiny rational part of her brain reminded her that she had just spent a few hours in the company of Talking Beavers. No, what tosh! Beavers may talk and fauns may drink tea and eat sardines but lions didn't speak. She must have hit her head harder than she thought when she fell off the sofa.

"Why do you go about in that form?" the lion asked.

Alright, maybe lions did talk.

She looked down at herself. She was the same as ever; a thin body covered in a floral dress faded by too many washes, skinny legs wearing grubby socks and her big old boots. Exactly as she had always been.

"I don't know what you mean," she said. "I've always looked like this."

The lion's head tipped slowly to one side and for a moment she thought it was smiling at her.

"Really? Do you not find two legs rather cumbersome? I think you may find four so much more beneficial. Perhaps you should try four instead of two. It may prove to be of use in the fight ahead."

She frowned and looked at her legs again. "I don't know what you mean," she repeated.

"Come here, child," it said. She obeyed and knelt beside the great, warm mane.

The liquid amber eyes regarded her.

"Do you know why your friends are here?" it asked. Her nose wrinkled.

"You mean the others? We ain't really friendly. They keep to themselves and I keep to mine."

"Hmm. You are confused, I see. That form _is_ constricting you."

She frowned again and looked down at herself. What was it talking about?

"Your friends were brought here to fulfil a Prophecy. They will end the Witch's hold over Narnia and reign as Kings and Queens," she was told. She burst out laughing and quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Sorry but they can't fight no Witch. They can't even fight each other proper."

"Which is why they need you. You are not part of their prophecy and yet you are still here. So, you can help. You can fight for them; you can be their knight," it said. "But, you are rather lost. You can't fight for anyone when you do not know the path you walk."

"I can!" she said indignantly. "I can fight with my fists and I can throw just as good as any boy. I can fight better than Peter and Edmund for one! I bet they've never even been in a real scrap before. Give me a sword and I'll be able to fight with that in no time, I know it!"

It made another strange noise almost like a chuckle.

"I say you can't. I think you are horribly lost, Nancy Dempsey. You need to embrace who you really are and everything shall become clear."

"Say what now?" she stammered, leaning back slightly.

"Embrace your true nature, Nancy. You shall not stand as a human in Narnia again until then. Until you know who you are, four legs shall serve you better than two."

She digested this and then stood up quickly. Too much mysticism and gobbledegook for her liking. What was with all this nonsense about four legs? That fish had been delicious but there must have been something dodgy about it because this was a really weird conversation. It had to be a dream; there was no other explanation.

"Well, thank you!" she said. "Lovely to meet you but I think I'll be going now. I'll make sure to listen to the inner-me and everything."

For a split second, she thought it smiled at her again.

"How you are going to listen to yourself when you can't even listen to me is beyond my understanding. Here, allow me to set you on the right path."

The great lion got to its feet and shook its mane. She backed away slowly as its eyes raised to meet hers. She wanted to run but her feet suddenly became as heavy as lead.

She winced and pressed her hands to her ears as the roar built and crashed over her; shaking her to her very core.

* * *

A scream and the crash of crockery tore through the night air. Mr Beaver paused, his nose twitching in the night air and then rushed off. His pace had almost doubled.

"That was the missus!" he cried and the three Pevensies picked up their trailing coats and hurried after him.

They burst back into the tiny house and almost fell over each other as they skidded to a halt. Mrs Beaver was pressed against her cupboards; her chest pumping and her eyes wide with fear.

"She was just sleeping, sleeping under her coat, and then I turned round..." she stammered.

They turned and looked at where they had left Nancy sleeping. Her coat was in a heap on the chair and that heap was moving of its own volition. The coat slid off with a thump and landed next to the shattered plates Mrs Beaver had dropped. Left on the chair was a small ball of Nancy's clothes, still writhing.

They all stared in horror as a feline head popped through the neck of Nancy's dress and stared back at them.

"I've had such a weird dream," the wildcat said shakily in Nancy's voice. "I don't feel quite right."

* * *

**I hope everyone had a lovely Easter! As always, leave me a review telling me what you think!  
**


	6. Fur of a Different Kind

Peter was feeling rather annoyed. Firstly, there was the problem of Edmund. He knew he was responsible; he couldn't remember the last time they had truly enjoyed each other's company. With so much bad air between them it was understandable that the younger boy had run first chance he had. Their mother's words from the train station resonated in Peter's head as he sat, fuming, in the Beavers' tiny house.

_You are the eldest, Peter. You are responsible for their wellbeing. Promise me you will keep them safe_ she had whispered in his ear. And now he had lost one of them. Only by seeking out this Aslan would he be able to move towards seeing his brother returned to where he belonged.

Secondly, Mrs Beaver was being very... thorough. They were supposed to be making their way to Aslan's camp with all haste but she had insisted that they pack. Her husband sat with his head in his paws and constantly reminded her, much to the despair of Susan and Lucy, that the Secret Police would be on them at any minute. Still, Mrs Beaver had packed everything from matches to butter to a small pack of tobacco into two knapsacks and lamented long over her beloved sewing machine. Eventually she agreed with herself that it was much too heavy and moved onto stuffing endless handkerchiefs into the top of the knapsacks.

Or, at least, she was trying to. To reach the shelf containing the endless handkerchiefs, Mrs Beaver had to ease her way past Nancy.

Yes, Nancy was the final annoyance. She was blocking off an entire corner of the house. Mrs Beaver had placed her looking glass on the floor and the little cat was sitting in front of it, staring at her reflection. Low moans occasionally escaped from her as she occasionally turned this way and that.

Nancy herself was secretly going to pieces. Waking up to find one's self in a different form was never good for one's psyche but she was also disappointed with the nature of her form. She was neither a sweet little fluffy kitten or a magnificent adult at the height of strength and physical perfection. Instead, much in the way her human body had been a bit gangly and out of proportion, she was an awkward adolescent feline stuck between kitten and adulthood.

Most worrying to her was she could see her own face in the feline one. Her eyes were the same shade of green even if the pupils were now different and when she wrinkled her new nose she could see her old face of disgust hidden beneath the fur and whiskers.

Oh yes, the whiskers. Talk about a sensory overload. Both her hearing and sense of smell had been ridiculously sharpened and now these whiskers made her so spatially aware that she felt incredibly vulnerable.

"Can we please get a move on!" Mr Beaver snapped.

"One more thing and I think we are ready!" Mrs Beaver trilled in reply, her head deep in a cupboard.

They froze as shadows slipped past the frosted windows and something scrabbled wildly at the corner of the house by Nancy. She leapt away from it in an instant.

"They're here!" Lucy shrieked and Peter slapped a hand over her mouth quickly. Mr Beaver pressed a finger to his lips and opened a door. The floor inside dropped away down into a tunnel. Quick as a flash, Lucy and Susan had been sent down the rope hanging inside and Peter was preparing to follow. Without thinking, Nancy leapt up onto his shoulders and dug her claws into the collar of his coat.

"What are you playing at?" he grunted as he swung down the rope.

"No bleedin' thumbs no more," she snapped. "I can't get down no rope."

He didn't answer that, instead catching the two knapsacks and the lantern Mr Beaver threw down to him. As soon as the Beavers joined them in the tunnel and the lanterns were lit, they were off. Nancy stayed clinging to Peter's collar as they followed the twisting tunnel. It was better than running over the uneven ground on these strange new legs.

"Me and Badger dug this! Took us ages but it comes up right by his place!" Mr Beaver told them.

"You said it came out by your mum's!" his wife protested. "_A nice safe passage for her to come visit us in_, you said!"

"Well it does! It just 'appens to be by Badger's too!" Mr Beaver insisted.

Lucy's foot caught in one of the roots snaking up through the floor and she fell almost head-long along the dirt. Susan stopped to pick her up and, in the short silence that followed, they heard a scrabbling and the snarls of the wolves. Nancy's tail fluffed up and a growl rose in her throat.

"They're in the tunnel?" Lucy gasped as she was yanked back on her feet.

"Quickly!" Mr Beaver begged. They continued along the passageway but they ran straight into a dead-end.

"Why didn't you bring a map?" Mrs Beaver shrieked as the snarling got ever closer behind them.

"A map?! There is only one way to go; forwards!" Mr Beaver replied and leapt up the dirt wall. Peter lifted his lantern and saw the beaver's tail vanishing through a hole at about Peter's head height. He dropped the lantern and picked up Lucy as Mrs Beaver followed her husband. He lifted her up and pushed her into the gap. As soon as she had crawled away, Nancy took a flying leap from Peter's shoulders after her.

The force from her back legs was powerful enough to send him staggering back a little but she was still getting to grips with her new limbs and she fell against the dirt. She ended up hanging half off the ledge, her back legs scrabbling at the dirt and her tail flicking angrily. She heard Peter groan and his hands pushed her up.

She scampered down the tunnel and out into the moonlit snow. Peter and Susan followed her out and a barrel was quickly rolled over the mouth of the tunnel. The noises of the wolves was, for a moment, muted.

Silence fell. Nancy looked around to where Lucy and the Beavers had vanished to. Lucy was lying on the ground with legs akimbo. Tiny stone animals littered the ground before her; squirrels and chipmunks and other rodents. Nancy crept closer to them. Her new sense of smell detected something strange. They smelt cold and dead like any other stone but also somehow alive. Locked down deep inside each one was a tiny spark of life. It unnerved her greatly.

"He was my best mate," Mr Beaver said forlornly from the end of the small clearing. He was standing in front of another statue, this one of a badger cowering. Nancy walked over to this one and again she caught the whiff of trapped life. It sickened her to the stomach.

"This is what happens to those who cross the Witch," a new, suave voice announced and a fox stepped forward into the moonlight. What happened next was completely instinctive; Nancy's back arched, her hair stood on end, her tail fluffed out like a bottle brush and she spat at the newcomer with a strange keening jabber.

What on earth was she doing? The fox glanced in her direction with indifference and then ignored her. Her rump collapsed down in the snow and she frowned. That reaction to something as common as a fox frightened her. It was far too cat-like.

_Remember you are a human, Nancy, _she thought shakily. _You are stuck in this form for now but inside you are human. We'll be having no more of this feline nonsense. _

Next thing she knew, Peter had picked her up and bodily carted her up a tree. She wriggled and spat but he didn't let go.

"Quiet," he hissed and she relented, although she did glare up at him from her cradle in his arm. She looked around and saw the girls and the Beavers were also in the tree. She shifted her gaze downwards and saw that the wolves had broken through the barrel. They were encircling the fox who was chatting with them surprisingly amicably given the situation.

Suddenly one leapt forward and grabbed the fox.

"Come on," the leader of the wolves said. "Tell us where the humans went. Your reward will be your life. After all, it's more than you deserve."

There was a horrible pause as the fox looked up towards them. The six in the tree held their breath as he seemed to come to a decision with a sigh. He gestured weakly.

"North. They went north. They can't be more than half a mile ahead of you," he said. They grinned and the one holding him threw him to one side carelessly. With snarls and howls, they sprinted off in the direction he had indicated.

Up the tree they waited while the noise of the wolves faded into the distance. When they were certain it was safe they climbed down. A fire was built and Mrs Beaver occupied herself with tending to the fox's wounds. He was not happy with this and squirmed at her touch as much as Nancy had in Peter's arms a moment earlier.

"Hold still!" she murmured. "You are worse than Mr Beaver on Bath Day!"

Mr Beaver shuddered. "Worst day of the year," he muttered to Lucy. She smiled and glanced back at Mr Fox.

He yelped again and crawled away from Mrs Beaver.

"I'm fine, truly, and I must be going. Aslan Himself has appointed me with the tasks of rallying our allies," he said proudly.

"You have met Aslan!" Mrs Beaver said, her eyes shining. She exchanged a look with Mr Beaver. "What's He like?!" they both gabbled.

Mr Fox smiled to himself and his eyes went slightly unfocused in the firelight.

"Like everything we have ever hoped and dreamed for," he said quietly. He shook himself and smiled at the three Pevensies on the other side of the fire.

"But, of course, you will see Him soon. He has amassed quite the army for you-"

"For us!" Susan cried. She looked at Peter. "We were sent away to be safe from the war not to get caught up in another!" she said.

"But, you have to fight! You must free us from the Witch and to do that you need Aslan and His army! You will achieve nothing with two Beavers and a Wildcat that moves like a day-old kit and stinks of Man!" Mr Fox protested.

"Oi! I am human! Just you wait 'til I can work these damn legs proper then I'll show you!" Nancy said, glaring at him.

"I stand corrected. With an insane Wildcat. Where on earth did you find this one?"

"She _was _a Daughter of Eve like them..." Mr Beaver said out the corner of his mouth as Nancy's tail began to swish.

"Well that explains the smell then," Mr Fox muttered. "I wondered why she stunk of Man."

He turned back to Peter. "Please, sire. The Prophecy!"

Peter looked between Susan and Lucy. "We just want out brother back safely," he said apologetically.

Mr Fox sighed and got to his feet. "I hope when we meet again you will have changed your minds," he said and bowed his head. "Good luck."

"And to you," Peter said.

The fox turned and scampered away into the undergrowth with a bob of his white-tipped tail. The six were left around the fire, not speaking and not even looking at each other.

"We should get some rest. It's still a long way to the Stone Table," Mr Beaver said gruffly.

Nancy crouched down and tucked her paws underneath herself to keep them warm. The tail swished round and curled around her body automatically. She looked at it.

She didn't know much about tails but she though this one was particularly fine. The bands of black were neat and the brown in between also held light creamy colours that all blended together to make a beautiful coat. Plus, on the few occasions it had done so, it fluffed out to a magnificent size. It was a new way of saying _Don't mess with me!_ and a much better one than jutting out her lip and balling her fists. She made it swish in and out. OK, she did quite like the tail. The whiskers would take some getting used to but she did like the tail.

She looked up to see Lucy looking at her hopefully.

"May I?" the younger girl asked.

"Oh, alright then," she said and climbed into Lucy's lap.

As Lucy's fingers began to stroke behind her ears, a curious rumble built somewhere inside her. Her first purr slipped out quietly, comforting both of them.

* * *

**And with this, we reach the end of I had written before! Next chapter will be all new! As always, thank you for reading and leave me a review! :3**


	7. Presents

Nancy plodded steadily through the snow alongside the Pevensies. They were taking what Mr Beaver had referred to as a shortcut. This involved traipsing across a frozen lake beyond which was their destination, the Stone Table. The lake was not in any way narrow; it was stupidly wide and Nancy felt like they had been walking across it for hours.

A shortcut was dodging into the alleyway behind the butcher's because it meant she didn't have to walk through three more streets to get home. This was definitely a longcut.

"How much further?" she shouted to Mr Beaver.

"Not far!" he shouted back from a few feet in front of them. "And keep up!"

"If he tells us to hurry along one more time," Peter said, pausing to let a struggling Lucy climb on his back, "I am going to turn him into a nice, big, fluffy hat."

The Beaver looked round at the four of them yet again and yet again shouted at them to go faster.

"It is rather irritating," Lucy pointed out. Nancy started to chuckle but it faltered in her throat as Mrs Beaver too looked back and shouted at them. Shouted something that sent terror running down all their spines.

"It's _her!"_

Instantly, Lucy had been dropped back on her feet and all four of them were sprinting for the far tree line. Nancy found herself bounding away from the three children as they ran. Her new legs were powerful and helped her plough through the snow much easier than the feet and trailing coats of the Pevensies. She overtook the Beavers and tore in between the trees. The ground vanished beneath her paws and she tumbled head first down in front of a small cave.

"Quick, everyone in!" Mr Beaver shouted as he dived down next to her. The others hurried inside and together they all cowered beneath the sheaf of rock. Their breathing seemed terribly loud to Nancy and she was certain, as she heard the sled chasing them come to a halt, that the Witch could hear them too.

A shadow fell across the snow in front of them and they all froze as a tiny amount of snow fell from the bank above. It seemed an age before the shadow moved away again and all six of them relaxed. Yet, Nancy did not hear the sled move off again and Mr Beaver was sniffing the air tentatively. He made to move out the cave but his wife grabbed his foreleg.

"You can't!" she moaned. He smiled.

"Someone's got to look, darling," he said. "Come on, Nancy. I'll need your eyes."

She started to tremble but followed him out of the cave and up the bank. Together they slunk with their bellies low upon the ground and peered through the undergrowth. The sled wasn't quite what Nancy expected. She expected the Witch to ride in a sled as white as the world around her, possibly with icicles hanging off the back and curving off the sides. She certainly did not expect the handsome walnut sleigh with the accents of red and green.

And then the driver of the sled sat up and Mr Beaver gave a great whoop. He dashed off into the undergrowth to fetch the others, leaving a dumbfounded Nancy to stare at the person watching her with a twinkling amused gaze.

"Hello, young one," he said good-naturedly.

"No," she said shortly. "I can believe in Talking Animals and fauns and me being forced into a ruddy wildcat's body but I refuse to believe in Father Christmas."

He raised his bushy white eyebrows. "How marvellous! I wish I was able to ignore that which was right before me!"

Before she could respond, Lucy had burst back through the trees with her brother and sister and the Beavers close behind her. The little girl seemed much more excited to see the old man than any of them and happily gabbled a greeting. Nancy felt a small pang of jealousy as the old man dug in his sack and passed over presents to each of the Pevensies. Lucy received a healing cordial and a dagger, Susan was gifted a bow and quiver and a horn, and, worst of all, Peter was given a sword and shield. Nancy stared enviously as he drew the sword from its sheath.

She desperately wished that she still had a hand to hold a sword with.

"I have a present for you too, Nancy," the old man said to her. "Do you want it?"

His gaze was cool and piercing.

She did not know if she wanted it. She did not believe in Father Christmas. That was a story for little children. How could she believe in a magical man who gave out presents when she would awake on Christmas Day to one thing; a thing she would greatly cherish and love but because she knew her parents had worked long and hard to save the money to buy it. How could she believe in this wonderful, generous person when, during the time her family was at their poorest, she had awoken to nothing on Christmas Day.

Father Christmas was just a story. Wasn't he?

She stepped forward nervously towards the sled. Father Christmas smiled down at her kindly and then reached inside his sack. He pulled out something that made her heart sink.

"Is that a collar?" she asked fearfully as he held it towards her.

"Do you want it to be?" he replied.

She looked at it carefully. It _was _beautiful, she had to admit. Three strips of leather in red, gold and green wove together and were joined by a golden clasp. From the middle hung a small shield of a red lion on a silver background; a smaller version of Peter's shield. The whole thing didn't really look much like a collar, now she looked at it closer. If you put it around Susan or Lucy's necks then it would look like a necklace.

"A collar represents ownership," Father Christmas continued, "but you must not think of this in that way. You are a soldier of Aslan now; and this is your standard and your uniform. Bear it proudly, for by wearing it you are displaying your loyalty to Him for the world to see. If you aren't ready for this commitment then do not accept my gift."

She nodded slowly. "I think I am ready. I don't exactly know how I am supposed to be loyal to something I don't really understand but I'm ready for the challenge."

He smiled kindly and handed the collar to Peter, who bent down and fastened it around her neck. She could barely feel the weight of it but she suddenly felt stronger. It was almost like she suddenly knew how to make her body move properly but there was something else. The second the clasp snapped shut, some of her fears and doubts melted away.

"Long live Aslan... and Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas boomed and flicked the reigns of his sleigh. Off he went and they crowded after him, waving and shouting farewells.

"Told you he was real," Lucy added snidely to her sister.

* * *

Apparently, the quickest way to Aslan's Camp lay across a river. A river that, until very recently, had been frozen.

It was now melting.

The six of them looked down in horror at the cracking ice. Every second that passed, more was breaking away and being swept away down the river.

"We cannot cross that!" Susan exclaimed.

"We might not have a choice!" Peter said as the howls of the wolves sounded worryingly close. He took Lucy's hand and started to lead her down the path after the Beavers. As they looped round and crossed beneath them, Nancy hopped onto Peter's shoulders and slung herself around his neck. All of them ignored Susan's loud protestations about the idiocy of their actions.

She still joined them on the riverbank, glancing around nervously as the wolves' howls echoed off the rocks around them. Peter took a deep breath and stepped out onto the ice. Nancy hissed and dug her claws into the collar of his coat as the ice beneath his foot cracked and he nearly threw her off as he stumbled.

"'Ere, I'll go first," Mr Beaver offered and Peter nodded his thanks. The portly beaver crept out onto the ice, banging his tail on patches he thought to be weak.

"Oooh, you've been sneaking extra helpings!" his wife said shrilly, balling her fists.

"Well, you never know when your last meal is going to be, my love!" he said jokingly. "Especially with your cooking."

Peter chuckled nervously and then once again stepped out onto the ice. The patch he's stepped on was safe and his sisters quickly joined him, their hands entwining with his. Nancy stayed firmly wrapped around his neck as the trio wobbled their way across the ice after Mr Beaver.

About halfway across, Lucy looked up and screamed. The wolves were overtaking them by running across the top of the waterfall! Nancy jumped down as they leapt down the opposite side. She and Mr Beaver ran forward, both their teeth bared and their claws ready to strike but two wolves knocked them down and pinned them to the ice before they could react.

There was another piercing shriek from Lucy and the leader of the wolves began to growl threats at the Pevensies. Nancy didn't listen; she could barely breathe under the heavy weight of the wolf. She lay perfectly still as it growled and slobbered over her. Its breath was horrible and hot against her neck.

She was useless. She wasn't a warrior or a fighter - she couldn't even take down one measly wolf as it tried to threaten the others. For one horrible moment, she considered the very real possibility that she could in fact die. She could die here, pinned under this disgusting creature and a long way from her family.

No... she wouldn't!

She wriggled and kicked with her back legs at the wolf's soft underbelly. Her claws tore through something and the wolf jumped off her with a yelp. She scrambled back onto her feet and started to run back towards the Pevensies.

As she did so, the ice gave a horrible groan as if it could not hold out for much longer. She raced for her friends as Peter plunged his sword into the ice but, before she could reach them, the waterfall split open and a ton of water crashed down upon them.

Nancy was swept into the river with an irate yowl. The water was bitterly cold and the river flowed swiftly, finely free to run again after a century's imprisonment. She was batted around between blocks of ice mercilessly, barely able to move let alone keep her head above the water and breathe. Suddenly a hand closed around her collar. She was momentarily choked as she was pulled from the water and swung onto one of the icy blocks now bobbing down the river.

She coughed and spluttered and blinked the water from her eyes. It was Peter who had pulled her from the water. He and Susan were clinging to the ice and desperately trying to avoid being swept away into the river. With the help of the Beavers, they managed to manoeuvre the ice towards the riverbank and clamber out onto the safety of the shore.

"Where's Lucy?" Susan demanded. Nancy looked round and her heart leapt in horror as she saw the empty coat dangling from Peter's hand.

"You had your arm around her! You were holding her!" Susan screamed at him. "_Lucy!"_

_He'd let go of Lucy to help her,_ Nancy realised. She spun around and scanned the river for a brown head bobbing the water. Nothing, nothing at all, and Susan and Peter looked equally worried. Just as Peter looked ready to dive back into the river, a small voice called from further downstream, "Has anybody seen my coat?"

A sopping Lucy climbed into view and was instantly enveloped in a hug from her siblings. Nancy paused and then wound her way around the younger girl's ankles. That strange purr rumbled out of her throat again and Lucy bent down to stroke her behind her ears.

Satisfied that her younger sister was actually alright, Susan wrapped her arm around Lucy's shoulders and once again started after the Beavers.

Nancy glanced up at Peter.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "Thanks for fishing me out the river."

"It was nothing," Peter replied. "Come on. We don't want to fall behind."

* * *

**Onto the new content! I had my Maths final this morning and it's nice to just sit back and relax now. -.- **

**Review please?**


	8. Winning Spurs

It seemed that the closer they got to Aslan's Camp, the closer they got to Spring. The heavy coats of the Pevensies were abandoned on a log some mile or so from the river and, by the time they left the trees, they were walking through a crisp and fresh morning. The Sun rose high into the sky and by mid-morning they saw the brightly coloured tents of the camp.

A horn rang out as they approached. Fauns and centaurs watched them with amusement as they walked up the centre of the camp.

"Why do they stare?" Nancy heard Susan ask.

"Maybe they think _you_ look funny?" Lucy replied with a grin and Nancy chuckled at Susan's slightly put-out expression. More and more animals were appearing from between the tents; horses and other cats and even a gorilla. It was funny to think that the way Nancy looked was the norm - not the human appearances of the Pevensies.

A centaur stood waiting for them outside the largest tent. Peter drew his sword and held it up in an odd sort of salute.

"We have come to see Aslan," he said. The centaur smiled and turned towards the tent. He bowed and so did everyone behind them. An air of reverence swept over the camp and Nancy stared at the flaps of the tent. What was going to come out? A Man like them?

The flaps parted and the lion from Nancy's dream stepped out. He walked forward and gazed at them kindly with His incredible eyes.

So this was Aslan. The fox had been right; He was everything they could have hoped and dreamed for.

"Welcome Peter, Son of Adam. Welcome Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve," He said, His voice washing over them like a summer breeze. "And welcome to you, Beavers, and to you, Nancy. Thank you for bringing them this far safely."

The Beavers nodded their thanks and Nancy swelled with pride. But Aslan's face had turned grave.

"But where is the other Son of Adam?" He asked. Susan and Lucy looked down.

"That is why we have come, sir," Peter said. He exchanged a look with Susan and took a deep breath. "Our brother has been captured by the White Witch."

"How could this happen?" Aslan asked and He looked towards the Beavers and Nancy.

"He... he betrayed them, sire," Mr Beaver said. Gasps echoed around the camp. Aslan was gazing at all six of them with such sadness and Nancy had never felt so disappointed in herself.

"It's my fault," Peter said. "I was too hard on him. I pushed him away from us."

Susan laid her hand on her brother's arm. "It was all our faults," she said.

"Sir, he's our brother," Lucy said.

"I know, dear one, but that does not soften the betrayal," Aslan said to her. "I shall think on what needs to be done."

And with that, He turned and padded back into the tent.

The three Pevensies were swept away into the camp by dryads and nymphs and the Beavers were called over by some other Talking Animals. Nancy looked around and met the thoughtful stare of the centaur. He walked towards her and towered over her. She fought the urge to cower in the grass.

"Hello, Nancy. My name is Orieus," he said. He was terrifying and reminded her slightly of her father's foreman; a tall, broad-shouldered, red-haired man who glared down at anything and everything as if it displeased him that it merely existed.

Maybe she should employ the same manners Pa told her to use then.

"Right, Guv. Pleasure to meet you," she said.

"Aslan has told me of your situation and He has asked me to train you personally," he said.

"Alright, Guv. Shall we get cracking?" she asked.

He looked at her with some confusion, presumably at her accent and manner of speaking, before leading her to a large training field. She sat down nervously, not quite knowing what to expect. When he turned back to her, he held a length of twine in his hands.

"Obviously, most cats are born as cats and have natural feline reactions. You, however have to learn," he said.

"What now, Guv?"

He dangled the twine in front of her nose and began to wave it back and forth. She watched it through slitted eyes, her tail starting to thrash back and forth.

"You have got to be joking," she said. "There is no way - _oooh gimme gimme gimme!"_

She froze and blinked a few times as Orieus roared with laughter. She was now somehow lying on her back with her paws clawing wildly at the end of the twine.

"Very good!" Orieus chuckled. He then proceeded to lead her through a number of exercises with the twine. She chased it through the grass and pounced on it from a distance and seemed to do a hundred other things before she could leap and catch it from any angle.

After the sun had climbed ever higher in the sky, she was allowed to go to lunch. She was given a lightly grilled fish by a faun and she happily carried it off into the camp, albeit with some difficulty. Eventually she found a nice spot and settled down to her fish. Or tried to. She wasn't exactly sure where to begin.

A light chuckle made her look round. Mr Beaver sat nearby with a fish of his own.

"You look like you are trying to push it into the ground with your nose," he said. "Stop trying to eat it like a Man. Here, let me show you how we Beasts eat."

So followed an amusing half hour in which she learned how to properly eat a fish. Afterwards, she was just curling up in the sun ready to have a nap when Oreius appeared again.

"No time for cat-napping," he said. "You can sleep plenty later when you haven't got training exercises to complete."

She stretched in the warm sunshine and glared up at him groggily. He was now wearing full armour and a great many swords and daggers were strapped to his body. Some glint in his eye made her very much want to not go with him.

She yawned and stretched again, her tail flicking idly. "No thanks, Guv," she said. "I ain't slept since we left the Beavers' and I- urk!"

The rather ungainly _urk_ escaped her throat as the centaur bent low and picked her up by the scruff of the neck. Ignoring the spitting and yowling, he carried her back to the training fields and unceremoniously deposited her next to a minotaur-shaped scarecrow.

"You can now move like a cat; now you need to learn to fight like one," he said. "And here you have an advantage; you have far more weapons in your paws then I can ever hope to hold."

"No I can't," she said shortly. "I need all four of my paws just to stand."

"These lessons will go much faster if you do not question me with every turn," he said sternly. She pursed her lips but did not say anything.

"I can hold a sword in each hand," he said. "Even the most brainless creature know that is two. You, on the other hand, have eighteen swords at your disposal and you can use them all at once - if you know how to of course."

"Eighteen? Please explain, Guv," she said politely albeit with a hint of impatience.

He took one of her forepaws between his finger and thumb and lightly squeezed. Five ivory claws shot out, sharp and deadly.

"Here are your swords," he grinned. "Four paws; five swords for each front paw and four swords for each back."

* * *

He worked her harder than he had that morning. There was much more to claw-work than one would think - and he was teaching her to use her teeth too. By the time he allowed her to go for a drink, she felt utterly exhausted.

Oreius watched her thoughtfully as she noisily lapped up the water in a small dish. "You are a fast learner," he noted. Hmph. That was probably as close to a compliment as she was going to get. She sat up and decided she would try to wash herself. Her coat felt horribly dusty and dirty. She'd seen the streetcats around her do it often enough and it did not take her long to work out the proper technique to sweep her paw across her face.

"Now, now, there is no need to be quite so rude," Oreius said suddenly. She froze, her tongue halfway down her paw.

"Muh?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't you know what it means for a cat to wash themselves in the middle of a conversation? Dear me, I should organise some etiquette lessons for you as soon as possible."

Etiquette lessons? _Etiquette lessons?!_ She didn't need no etiquette lessons! She swelled angrily and opened her mouth. Luckily for Oreius, before she could give him a mouthful of finest quality East-End Etiquette the call of a horn rang out across the grass.

"Sounds like trouble," the centaur muttered. "Come on!"

He galloped off across the training fields and, with increasingly bad grace, Nancy followed. She hadn't slept for hours now and she had been made to work and work hard too! Her muscles were aching and it was hard to keep up with the much fitter centaur. He led her back through the camp and into the woods beyond. One of his swords was drawn from its scabbard but, before he could strike, Aslan's voice rang out.

"Stay your blade! This is Peter's fight; let him win his spurs!" He growled and Oreius halted. Nancy skidded to a halt next to his hooves and quickly surveyed the scene before them. Susan and Lucy's white and frightened faces were staring down from a tree at Peter. His own sword was drawn and pointed at a wolf who was snarling all sorts of horrible threats at him.

Peter looked so out of place with the sword in his hand. He looked terrified. She made to leap forward and help him but Oreius stuck out a leg and stopped her.

"You heard Aslan. Stay put," he warned. She looked up at him and then towards Aslan.

The Great Lion stood a little further round the clearing, one huge paw pinning down another wolf, and He was watching Peter carefully. Nancy didn't understand. Yes, Peter had to learn to fight but was this the best way? He could die!

She was supposed to protect the Pevensies, wasn't she? Wasn't that why she was here?

But she could do nothing but scream with Susan and Lucy as the wolf pounced straight for Peter's throat and knocked him to the ground.

For one dreadful moment, both bodies were too still. And then Peter sat up and pushed the stinking wolf's carcass off him. He must have managed to stab the wolf!

As his sisters engulfed him in a hug, the other wolf wriggled out from under Aslan's paw and sprinted off into the woods.

"Follow him!" Aslan commanded. "He will lead you to the other Son of Adam!"

"Come on," Oreius grinned, grabbing Nancy by the scruff of the neck again and swinging her onto his back. "You can earn your spurs too."

He charged between the trees with frightening speed and power. His whinny of laughter when she hissed and dug her claws into the leather of his scabbards was whipped away into the woods. The hiss became a growl and she punctured the leather further for fear that she would be hurled into the undergrowth. She was grateful to be allowed to ride on his back though.

On and on they seemed to go, following the bobbing tail of the wolf, until they burst into the midst of the Witch's camp. Gruesome creatures jumped to attention everywhere and scrabbled for their weapons.

Nancy leapt from Oreius' back and ploughed straight into an ogre. Her teeth and claws brutally ripped through its throat and she rode it down as it collapsed with a gargle. With a powerful kick of her back legs, she sprang forward and sprinted after Oreius.

She caught up with him again before a tree. His sword was drawn and held against the neck of an evil-faced Black Dwarf. Tied to the tree was a pale and sickly looking Edmund. All her aches and pains vanished when she looked at him. He looked so utterly miserable and she could hardly imagine what he had been through.

"Cut his ropes," Oreius ordered, his eyes never leaving the dwarf's.

"Yes, Guv," she said. Edmund's eyes widened as he heard her voice. She attacked his ropes viciously and he was soon wriggling free.

"Congratulations on the first kill, Madame Wildcat. How do you feel?" he asked as he lifted Edmund onto his back and gestured for the others with them to deal with the dwarf.

"Right as rain, Guv," she answered as she leapt up beside Edmund. Oreius turned and started to canter away from the camp. "It were only an ugly old ogre after all. It's not like I floored another human or a Talking Beast," she added.

His shoulders tensed slightly at that and she could tell that he wasn't impressed by her answer. Thankfully at that moment Edmund found his voice.

"Nancy?" he croaked.

"One and the same!" she crowed. He reached out a tentative hand and stroked her ear. She let a purr build and rumble out to reassure him. It still felt odd to make such a peculiar noise but it soothed Lucy and she reasoned it would soothe Edmund too.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"His majesty Aslan, in His almighty wisdom, saw fit to turn me into a bleedin' feline," she replied promptly. "Why I don't know. Some nonsense about embracing my inner self."

Oreius chuckled and she glared at him.

"And the others?" Edmund asked.

"Don't you worry, they're still human; although they have more pointy things than when you last saw 'em," she grinned.

"I don't suppose they will be too pleased to see me," he said miserably, looking out at the trees speeding past.

"What! 'Course they will!" she exclaimed. "Why do you think we traipsed halfway across the bleedin' country?! An' while they've been lolling about the camp in all their finery, _I've_ been working. _I've _had to learn how to use a whole new blummin' set of limbs!"

Oreius gave a great whinny of laughter and even Edmund managed a weak smile.

The centaur cantered easily up the hill towards Aslan's camp. The evening had drawn in and the camp was at rest. Everyone had gone to bed to be ready for the morrow's day of hard training and preparations.

But one still waited for them. Oreius and Nancy bowed their heads as the Great Lion approached.

"Welcome Edmund, Son of Adam. I am most pleased to find you in the safe hands of my captain and his soldiers," He said warmly, His eyes glowing. "Walk with me; and we shall talk."

Edmund glanced at Nancy. She nodded and he slid off Oreius and followed Aslan into the twilight.

"Well, goodnight Guv!" Nancy said brightly. "See ya bright and early tomorrow!"

She made to leap from him but an arm shot out and caught her.

"Nancy, are you sure you are alright?" Oreius asked. "You took a life today. Do you not feel anything at all?"

"Uuuh," she gargled, half-winded by dangling over his arm so. He sighed and let her fall to the ground.

"Don't really understand what you are asking me, Guv. It were just an Ogre. They're the Enemy, aren't they? I'm supposed to kill them," she said.

He sighed and looked at her with something approaching pity. "And what if, next time, it is not just an Ogre, or a Boggle or any other of the Witch's minions. Suppose it is another Talking Animal? Suppose it is a Human? How would you feel killing them if they were the Enemy?"

She met his gaze unblinkingly. "If it's alright with you, Guv, I'll cross that hurdle when I come to it," she said softly. He sighed again.

"Oh, Nancy. I pray that I am not there to see you when you finally learn just how naive you are."


	9. A Deadly Insult

The next day was bright and sunny again. Nancy stretched in the pool of sunlight just outside the tent flap (she had spent the night curled peacefully at the foot of Peter's bed) before setting off back towards the training fields. After last night's lecture from the Guv, she had agreed to meet him just after dawn for more training.

He was already waiting for her by the hay bales and was deep in conversation with a regal-looking leopard.

"Is this her?" the leopard asked imperiously as Nancy neared.

"Yes," Oreius replied before addressing her. "Nancy, I regret that I cannot continue your training today. Aslan has asked me to instruct the Sons of Adam instead. You will now be taught by Lady Perchuhi. I leave you in her capable paws."

The leopard sighed wearily as Oreius walked off. "Typical," she said, circling Nancy slowly. "I am told to expect a great warrior who only needs my guidance to become more refined and instead I get _you."_

"Wha's that supposed to mean?" Nancy snarled.

"Wildcats," Lady Perchuhi said, revulsion clear in her voice. "Two steps away from being some dumb lap animal with ribbons around their necks, drinking cream from saucers and being fondled by small children who want to dress them up in dolly clothes. Look, you even have a collar! You are no warrior; run along to the Queens and let them pet you and feed you titbits."

Nancy's tail fluffed out in anger. She was outraged. How _dare _this posh knob of a leopard talk to her like that!

"Who the bleedin' hell do you think you are?" she yowled. "Aslan 'imself gave me this body and what you called a collar was given to me by Father Christmas to show my loyalty to the Great Lion!"

Lady Perchuhi's tail flicked idly to the side. "A good start," she noted, "if a little ineloquent."

She circled Nancy one final time before sitting in front of her. Her whiskers twitched from side to side as her eyes swept over Nancy's thin little body.

"Sit up straight!" she snapped suddenly. "You look like a doorstop!"

Nancy grudgingly pushed her upper body off the ground and sat roughly upright.

"This is going to be quite a task," Lady Perchuhi muttered. She pushed one paw softly against Nancy's chest until the wildcat was sitting bolt upright.

"We are Cats," she said proudly. "Do you know why Aslan takes the form of a Lion?"

Nancy thought of what she knew about lions. She began to sag forward again and a paw promptly prodded her upright. Her whiskers twitched but she did not say anything. Nothing was coming to the forefront of her mind to answer the leopard.

Lady Perchuhi made an impatient noise as the minutes ticked on.

"Any cat can look in the eye of a king with the right conviction and will! We bow to nobody but Aslan. And why? Because Aslan is a lion, the King of Cats! We are His cousins and we should be proud to bear the same form," she said eventually.

"So, what? I'm supposed to not accept Peter and Edmund as kings because they ain't cats?" Nancy said. She was getting horribly confused and her confusion doubled as Lady Perchuhi gave an irate yowl and rolled her eyes.

"Of course not! That would be to go against the word of Aslan!"

"But you said-"

"Oh, by the Lion's Mane, you are impossible!" the leopard snapped. "Perhaps we should come back to Feline Pride at a later date. I think some elocution is in order; perhaps with a quick introduction into the Grace of Felinity."

* * *

The Pevensies had settled easily into camp life. Although Peter had held some doubts over letting his siblings participate in the battle, all three of them had opposed him very vocally. He had eventually been swayed by Edmund of all people.

His younger brother was not the same boy who had entered the Wardrobe with them. His short time with the Witch had made him so much quieter and almost humble. He was more like the Edmund of old and Peter's heart warmed more to him with every moment that passed.

It was as they walked through the camp with the dirty crockery of their breakfast that they noticed their other companion. Nancy was walking slowly and rather stiffly, as if a rod had been inserted along her spine, and as they called out a greeting to her a look of panic flashed across her face.

"Good day to you, my monarchs," she said and they stopped dead. Gone was the tough little East-End accent and in its place was a forced accent that sounded like a bad satire of their own.

"'Tis a fine day for the preparations of war, is it not?" Nancy continued, now going slightly cross-eyed with effort. "I do hope that you find... you find... oh bleedin' heck, I can't speak like that no more! I don't know how you do it all the blummin' time!"

"Why are you trying to sound so refined?" Edmund asked, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Nancy made a face.

"Lady Perchuhi is tryin' to turn me into a little lady; as befits a Talking Cat of Narnia," she said crossly. Her nose twitched and she stared at the breakfast plates in his hands.

"'Ere, pass us one of 'em kippers, would you?" she said. Peter picked one of them up and threw it to her. She reared up on her hind legs and caught it between her forepaws before shaking it wildly and scarfing it down in one. As she crunched the bones, she looked up to see them both still staring at her.

"Umph?" she asked around the fish.

"Nothing," Peter said. "You are just rather cat-like now."

"Please tell 'er ladyship that if you see her," she muttered before darting off between the tents.

"Do you think she knows how fast she is turning into a cat?" Edmund asked. "I for one did not recognise her until she spoke."

"I strongly doubt it," Peter said. "Come on. General Oreius is waiting."

* * *

"And where did you sneak off to?" Lady Perchuhi asked as Nancy bounded up to her.

"Breakfast," was the short reply. The leopard gave a tiny mew of despair and shook her head.

"Well, now that your hunger is satisfied, shall we continue?" she said and leapt up onto a fence. Her tail swished back and forth as she found her balance and then she began to walk slowly along the fence. Each step was pronounced and careful and her body rippled through the movement like a piece of silk.

Nancy obediently jumped up behind her. Her attempt was less a piece of rippling silk; more an enthusiastically waving piece of cotton. Lady Perchuhi sighed wearily and fixed her with yet another piercing stare.

"Sorry I ain't pickin' it up as fast you'd like!" Nancy snapped hotly.

"I don't know why you can't pick it up. You are a Cat, it should be instinctual!" Lady Perchuhi replied.

"I'm not a Cat! I may look like one but I ain't inside!"

Lady Perchuhi cocked her head to one side. "Maybe I am doing this the wrong way round. Instead of me simply telling you how a Cat behaves, why don't you take over the instruction?"

Nancy stared at her and then asked, "Why was Oreius insulted when I tried washing?"

The leopard's whiskers twitched and then she chuckled.

"If a Cat washes in front of you, it means that they think you have nothing interesting to say and you are no longer worthy of their attention. It is one of the more abrupt insults a Cat can throw," she laughed. "Body language counts for much amongst the feline race."

Nancy snorted. It was hilarious that something so simple was considered to be so rude. She did not have to scream profanity or make any sort of gesture to insult someone. She could just decide to wash herself mid-conversation.

"So, what else can I do?" she asked.

And Lady Perchuhi told her. From lightly digging her claws into someone to make them move away to keeping her entire body still except for an idly swishing tail. In the space of about an hour, she learned exactly how to properly insult someone without speaking a word.

Lady Perchuhi herself was fascinated by the younger cat's sudden interest. Nancy had shown no interest in the finer points of Felinity yet she had sat with rapt attention as the leopard spoke. What a peculiar little creature she was.

The two became aware of a sudden flurry of activity in the camp. Everybody seemed to be rushing for the central path through the tents and Nancy had to quickly follow Lady Perchuhi through the other soldiers. She pushed her way through until she was Peter's blond head. A quick hop up a pile of crates followed by a small leap and she was crouched around his shoulders.

He flinched as she landed but didn't throw her off.

"Woss happenin'?" she hissed.

"The Witch," was all he replied.

At that moment, a Dwarf marched up the path towards Aslan's tent. He wasn't like the ones she had met around the camp. They had red hair and smiling faces; quick-witted and occasionally a little sulky but always pleased to help with a problem or task. This one had a knotted beard of black hair and a wicked little face. He held a whip in his hands and he brayed pompously as he trotted towards Aslan's tent.

"Make way for the Queen! Make way for Her Majesty, Queen Jadis!"

Peter reached out and laid a hand on Edmund's shoulder. The younger boy was stark white and trembling. Even the sight of Aslan emerging from His tent to await the Witch seemed to do little to calm him down.

And then the watching crowd fell silent and the Witch - who until that moment had been nothing more than a name, an intangible figment - stepped into view.

She took one disparaging look around at the soldiers and then held aloft a sceptre of crystal for all to see. Leaving it on a rock at the far end of the camp, she made her way towards Aslan.

Nancy instantly knew how Edmund had been ensnared by her. She may have been known as _witch_ but she looked nothing like the witches and hags of fairytale. She was taller than any human Nancy had ever seen, her limbs slim and her movements graceful. Her hair was ash-blonde in colour and twisted on top of her head. Most striking of all was her face. It was incredibly beautiful but could in no way be described as fair.

Her beauty was deadly, as deadly as the beauty of her winter.

She reached the small expanse of grass in front of Aslan's tent. For a moment, the gaze of the two enemies met. When she chose to break the silence, her voice was soft and musical. But its tone was icy and her words sent shivers and whispers running around the camp.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

Nobody said anything but Nancy became painfully aware of everyone looking towards Edmund. Peter's grip on his brother's shoulder tightened and his sisters stepped a little closer to him. Lucy slipped her hand into Edmund's.

"His offence was not against you," Aslan growled. She arched an eyebrow and smiled cruelly.

"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic upon which Narnia was forged?" she asked.

"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch!" Aslan snarled. For a moment His eyes blazed and He took a single step towards the Witch. "I was there when it was written," He reminded her.

She did not even flinch. "Then you will remember well that every traitor belongs to me," she said. Her face darkened and she pointed one white finger at Edmund.

"His blood is _my _property! He shall die on the Stone Table," she cried. Her voice had changed in an instant from the quiet susurrus of light snowfall to the full howl of a winter storm. And then she changed again, returning to her earlier form.

"As the Law demands," she said with another cruel smile. Aslan gazed at her, His face unreadable.

"Move," Nancy hissed into Peter's ear. "She can't hurt us! You gotta do something!"

So he stepped forward, his sword drawn and his face set in grim determination.

"Come and take him," he said and Nancy swelled with pride. This was it; he was protecting his family like he should as an older brother! And she was helping him! She was helping to protect the others like she was supposed to!

The Witch cast one of her disparaging glances towards the pair of them. She did not even seem to consider them a threat. They were nothing to her.

"You think mere force will deny my right, little King?" she asked, her voice dripping with cold derision.

Nancy felt Peter's tensed shoulders sag underneath her as the Witch turned away and addressed the rest of the crowd.

"Aslan knows that if the traitor's blood is not given to me, all of Narnia shall perish in fire and water!" she proclaimed almost arrogantly. Another wave of whispers ran around the camp as she repeated her earlier words.

"As the Law demands."

Then Nancy did something that was both very brave and very stupid. It did not occur to her until much later just how stupid it was and as she grew older she often pondered why she had done it. All she could conclude was that in that moment she felt a huge desire to protect the Pevensies. In that moment, there was no distinction between these children she had known for only a few days and her own siblings. They were her family now.

And she had been brought up to always protect her family.

So she leapt from Peter's shoulders and landed between him and the Witch. She did not cower in the grass but stood tall, her head and tail raised nobly just as Lady Perchuhi had shown her. The Witch paused and stared at her. Nancy made sure to stare right into her eyes; green locked into icy blue.

"And what do you think you can do?" the Witch asked.

Nancy did not reply. She stared at her for a moment more before plonking herself down in the grass and turning her head to vigorously wash herself.

Chuckles broke out around the camp and the Witch's face turned livid. Nancy danced backwards to the Pevensies and jumped back up onto Peter's shoulders.

"I did not come here to be insulted, Aslan!" the Witch said, anger building in her voice. "Will you give him to me?"

"I will speak with you. Alone," the Great Lion answered and turned and padded back into His tent. The Witch followed with one final flash of hatred towards the Pevensies and Nancy. They seemed to stay in the tent for hours. Nobody outside moved, they just waited. Edmund ripped up and shredded countless pieces of grass. His siblings just sat in a semi-circle around him, unsure of what words of comfort they could offer him. Even Nancy could not manage one of her peculiar purrs.

Eventually the flaps of the tent flew back and the Witch came storming out. She marched back to the stone where she had left her wand and snatched it up.

Aslan too emerged from the tent and smiled at everyone waiting. "The Witch has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood," He proclaimed.

"How do I know you will keep your promise?" the Witch called, her face still livid. Aslan's face momentarily darkened and He gave a great roar. It shook all of the camp and everyone jumped slightly.

Of course, no-one jumped more than the Witch who scooted back a fair few steps. She swept off, an evil look in her eye and her dwarf and the laughter of Aslan's camp following behind her.

Edmund was engulfed in well-wishers and huggers. Nancy jumped down and the Pevensies to celebrate together. She wandered between the other soldiers, exchanging grins and receiving praise for her actions in front of the Witch. Receiving praise, that is, until a paw swung from no-where and knocked her flying into a pile of rugs.

"What, in the name of all the Lion's whiskers, did you think you were doing!" Lady Perchuhi yowled. Nancy blinked at her and Oreius glaring at her from her upside position in the rugs.

"Uuuuh," she moaned as she righted herself. "Helpin'."

"Oh yes, let us go and _insult_ the greatest enemy Narnia has ever known!" Lady Perchuhi snarled but Oreius' face was twitching. A chuckle slipped out and he hid it behind a hand as the leopard glared up at him.

"Your lessons appear to have worked, my lady," he said and Lady Perchuhi looked mortified.

"I have been teaching her - or trying to teach her - the nuances of Felinity!" she spluttered.

"What is it you are always saying? _With the right conviction, a Cat can look in the eye of a King._ Well, she found the conviction inside herself to stare down a Witch," the General pointed out. Lady Perchuhi looked like she was undergoing a great internal struggle. Her whiskers and tail twitched furiously and her eyes blazed.

"She needs a name," she said eventually. Nancy cocked her head to one side.

"Y'wot?"

"A name, a name, cub!" the leopard said exasperatedly. "Do you think I was born with the name Perchuhi?! No, I chose it for myself! My real name is for me to know and me alone!"

Nancy sat down and thought.

"'Ere, Guv," she said to Oreius. "What did you call me yesterday when we rescued Edmund?"

Oreius grinned at her. "Madame Wildcat? A bit obvious and a bit crude, but it will do."

"Obvious and crude, a bit like me then," Nancy said almost to herself.

Even Lady Perchuhi could not help but laugh at that.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay but I was hit by finals and became horribly stressed out and frazzled by real-life. I'm now back to writing and can hopefully update a bit more regularly. :)**

**Much of the way the Cats behave in this story has come from a line from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical _Cats_:_"Can you look at a King? / Would you sit on his throne?"  
_**

**I love cats dearly but I do think they are quite arrogant animals sometimes and I wanted to try and bring this across. I'm not sure how well I managed it. :/  
**

**Also, it was so fun to write Jadis from a different perspective! One of my other stories concerns her sister and the Jadis I write there is really just a spoiled and frustrated child hiding behind the façade of Queen. I found it peculiar that the Pevensies, Edmund excluded of course, don't meet her until she comes to the camp to demand Edmund's blood. But then again, in most stories you never see the true evil for yourself. Frodo never fights Sauron and Garion does not meet Torak until the very end. Interesting trope.**

**Anyway, that is enough rambling from me! Leave me a review and I shall hopefully see you all again soon.**


End file.
